Primary Colors
by jaxidy
Summary: Edward is a firefighter. Nuff said... No? Well alright, Bella is an artist. Both are trying to recover from the tragedy of their pasts. Their paths cross when a series of arsons begin to terrorize the town. Who's past has returned to haunt them?
1. Brushes

**I don't own Twilight.**

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**Brushes**

It was the most absorbing thing in the world.

There was no sense of time, or place, or noise and very littlest concept of surrounding. There was simply a canvas and colors. It was a different level of consciousness, one that was free of thought and full of feeling. One that was both silent and peaceful, and noisy and exhausting. The brush moved, and sometimes Bella didn't feel like she controlled it. It was her hand that held it, her eyes and chose the colors and textures and her mind that put it all together, but sometimes she felt like the painting was controlling her. When it was finished, she might be pleased or she might be disgusted; but, she was always surprised and never ever knew where it came from.

The rap on the door sent her three feet into the air with a yelp of surprise. She was jumpy when she was absorbed in a picture and it was usually a phone-call or Charlie walking through the door unannounced that sent her brush flying. Luckily she was working on water, and on close examination a second later, she decided that the sudden dip of highlight gave the lake a nice effect so she didn't try to fix it.

"Come in!" she yelled without bothering to open the door herself.

Charlie had been generous in letting Bella have the old tool-shed as her 'studio'. It was about the size of a cracker-jack box, but she had fixed it up nicely. Charlie had gotten her a heater and replaced the terrible old lighting, with bulbs that promised a 'natural' effect. There was even a bathroom, a toilet, and sink hidden behind a narrow door at the back.

Jacob walked in grinning and shook his head when he saw her. She was wearing over-alls of all things, with one strap twisted carelessly behind her back and the other hanging off her shoulder. Her t-shirt was faded from what might have once been bright blue, to a ragged grey. Her hair was pulled in a careless ponytail. Of the many strands that had escaped, a few were laced with streaks of green and white goop. She had her back to him and briefly glanced over her shoulder to flash him a smile.

"Hey Jake," she turned back to her work and quickly switched brushes.

"Hey Bells," he paused for a moment, and then realized she wasn't planning to stop any time soon.

She had forgotten. He was torn between being hurt and being entertained, he decided to play on the latter.

"I told her that 'semi-formal' was too broad of a definition for preferred attire. I knew you would lean toward the informal side." He paused when he saw her shoulders stiffen, then he smiled and continued when she began to turn around. "But really Bella, it's my sister's wedding…"

She was looking at him in horror, taking in his slicked hair and loosened tie. Her brush hung, momentarily forgotten in her fingertips and most of the color drained from her face.

"What time is it?" she choked.

He knew she had no sense of time when she was painting. He had even bought her a big tacky digital watch with a glowing green face. He saw that it was sitting next to one of her many jars, forgotten.

"Five-thirty," he replied cheerfully, and then looked up at the giant wall clock that Charlie had hung for her. "Well, five thirty-eight, I to be exact." He threw her an impish grin. "Sorry I'm a little late."

He was almost afraid for her health when she swayed slightly and her mouth hung open.

"Don't worry," he said, handing over the garment bag that had been hanging on the door of her closet, though he should have known better than to check the house first. Bella was always painting… and forgetting.

"Crap Jake!" she began twisting the caps on her paint tubes frantically, and shoved a handful of soiled brushes into the solution of one of her jars. "Crap, crap, crap… Why didn't Charlie come get me?!" She began yanking at a roll of saran and when it was hopelessly tangled Jacob decided to step in before she hurt herself.

"Charlie left a couple of hours ago to help Billy get ready, he left you a note. Something about cufflinks I think. Here," he pushed her gently aside, and untangled the offending plastic from her fingers. "Get dressed and I'll clean up."

"Okay." She grabbed the bag and hurried past the three easels toward the bathroom.

He laughed at the stress on her face. "It's okay Bells, we have time… sort of. Hey is this oil or acrylic?"

"Oil!" She called back. He heard her yank the zipper of the garment bag down. "But don't clean the brushes Jake, I'll do them!"

"I can handle it," he replied indignantly, "I've seen you do it dozens of times." He reached for the bottle of turpentine and set to work with a jar and a rag.

"I can't _believe_ I forgot." Bella wailed. "Well, I didn't forget. I came out at eleven this morning thinking that I would just paint for a couple of hours before lunch. I figured that even if I got distracted, my stomach would remind me… Thanks for nothing."

Jacob laughed, "Are you talking to your stomach?"

"Shut up," she snapped.

There was more frantic ruffling followed by a low moan.

"What is it?" Jacob was trying to figure out if there was any rhyme or reason to the way the brushes were placed in jars on her shelves. He decided not to risk her wrath if he messed them up, and laid the freshly cleaned ones out on a paper towel.

"My hair!" she moaned again. "There's paint in it!"

"Don't worry about it." Jake tried to sound reassuring as he placed a sheet of saran wrap over the wet paints on her pallet. "Everyone who knows you is so used to it that they probably won't even notice… and we'll just tell everyone else that you're going for an artsy look."

She groaned again, but opened the door. Her dress was dark charcoal grey and it swung around her knees in three light layers. It was cap sleeved, and square necked and had some sort of twisty effect around the middle.

Jake grinned, "I like it."

"Thanks." Bella didn't have time to smile back, and she was too stressed and angry at herself. "I'm going to run up to the house for a second and get Charlie's cufflinks, and see what I can do about this." She pointed miserably at her hair, which was now free of the pony tail and hanging lankly down her back. It was kinked in the middle and streaked with paint in the front.

"Here, I'll go up to the house, you stay and fix your hair and we'll be out the door in no time." Jake threw the rag he was holding onto the top of the pile in the corner.

"They're in my jewelry box. Second drawer, in a zip-lock bag."

"Okay," Jacob hurried out the door of the shed and across the front yard toward the house. He ran up to her room and found the cufflinks quickly. Then he hurried down the rickety stairs, taking them two at a time. In a moment of inspiration he went to the kitchen pantry and grabbed the first box in his reach. Strawberry Pop-Tarts, he shoved them into his pocket and ran back to the shed, hoping that Bella wasn't trying to be too creative with her hair.

He pushed open the door to find her standing in the middle of the shed with her hair up and tears in her eyes. Before he could even ask, she was pointing to a glob of light grayish paint on the hip of her dress.

"Jessica is going to kill me!" she exclaimed, as she grabbed for a rag and tried to wipe the paint away.

"The Stanley's aren't invited," Jacob told her as he walked over to see what the damages were.

"Well, she'll kill me tomorrow then when I try to return this dress to her. I borrowed it."

Her voice was breaking and Jake could tell that unless he did something quickly, she would be a useless puddle on the floor. First thing tomorrow, he promised himself, he was going to finish working on her truck. He prided himself on being on time, and driving Bella around everywhere was diminishing that pride very quickly.

"Well Rachel is going to kill _me_ if I don't get there… like, fifteen minutes ago."

He watched helplessly as the light smear became bigger and bigger. "You're fighting a losing battle there, Bella, just leave it. No one will notice."

She walked over to the bathroom mirror and took a look. He grimaced when I saw the miserable expression on her face. His grimace became more pronounced when he saw her expression change suddenly to one of calm determination.

"No Bella," he begged, but she had already tuned him out.

She walked over and picked up her sponge tip and the tube of gray. Then she calmly and purposefully squirted another glob over the first stain. She quickly pushed the color out from the center with her brush so that it spread over her waist and down toward her thigh until it faded into the background of the fabric. Ignoring his pleas for her to stop, she squirted another glob at the bottom of her skirt on the other side and worked the paint up. The loose fabric was giving her trouble. She interrupted his current objection that she couldn't possibly expect to go to a wedding in a dress covered in wet paint.

"This is acrylic Jake, don't worry. I'll be dry before we even get in your car. Hold the hem, will you? I'm almost done."

He rolled his eyes and knelt down to help her. She finished spreading the paint at the bottom and finished by adding a little at one shoulder and pushing it along the neck line. He had to admit that it wasn't a terrible effect; in fact, it might even have been an improvement.

"Okay, let's go." She threw the brush into the sink and grabbed her purse.

He left the shed the same way he had entered it, grinning.

His 1986 VW Rabbit was his pride and joy. He'd restored it himself, and prided himself on the fact that it had turned out way better than anyone expected. Maybe it wasn't the nicest car, but it was his first, and he loved it.

Bella slid into the passenger side, carefully holding all of the painted parts of her skirt in the air so that they wouldn't touch the seat.

Jacob raised his eyebrows at her and she shrugged. "Well, I might have exaggerated a little. But I promise it will be dry before we get there."

He gave her a mocking glare and reached over her lap to roll down her window.

"That should help," he told her and started the car.

Out of guilt for making them late, she didn't complain about being cold or point out that the breeze might mess up her hair, which she had pulled up into a messy pile on the back of her head, braiding the painted parts and pulling them back with the rest. It wasn't a bad look, and the streaks of green and white almost looked intentional.

Jacob, who was always bright and helpful when it came to getting her out the door, was sulking now that they were in the car like he always did. He was glowering out the windshield, wishing that there was some way to turn a twenty minute drive into a three minute one. Rachel was going to kill him… Speeding was out of the question with the Police Chief's daughter in the car. He didn't think she'd rat him out, but he didn't like putting her in that awkward position. Being raised by the Sheriff's best friend had also given him a strong respect for the law that was all his own. Their fathers had been best friends for as long as Jacob and Bella could remember and longer. It was a bond that ran as deep as family and was just as unbreakable.

Bella gauged his attitude and tried to figure out the best way around it. She hated making him mad at her. A familiar song came quietly through the speakers of his fancy stereo and made her smile. She reached over, turned up the volume, and began to sing along.

He fought back a smile as her voice broke over the first line of the chorus.

She saw the tightening of his jaw muscles and knew that she had already won when he couldn't hide the amused glint in his eye. She went louder to close the deal, holding on to a fake microphone and really trying to control the waver of her voice as the song dipped lower.

He was determined to hang on to his grudge. He refused to look at her, knowing that if he did the battle would be lost. She saw it and yelled over the music.

"Come on Jake, it's our song!"

Her voice broke over and over as she tried to keep up. She was a terrible singer, but completely oblivious. Half of the lyrics she belted out were completely wrong. Unable to resist, he finally gave in and joined her with a laugh.

She smiled, and when their eyes met she knew she was forgiven.

He suppressed a gasp and looked away quickly, but her image stayed fresh in the forefront of his mind. Her eyes sparkling, he cheeks flushed and rosy. The loose strands of her hair blowing away from her face, and her smile… He felt an odd squeeze in his chest, one that he'd been feeling more and more lately when he was around her. He knew exactly what it meant, and he knew he had to tell her. He had to tell her tonight.

She saw his eyes widen and the way his neck flushed as he turned away, but didn't say anything. She thought she knew what it meant, and she was happy. She was so beyond happy.

She turned the music back down as the song ended and sighed contentedly.

"It's such a nice day for a wedding."

It was actually a perfect day, the best weather you could hope for, for a spring wedding in Washington. It wasn't raining, and the sun was peeking out from behind the thin cloud layer. It was a little cool, and the air was a little damp, but overall it was beautiful weather.

Jake nodded in agreement and then he remembered the Pop-Tarts. He pulled them out of his pocket and handed her the package.

"Here, sorry they're a little broken. I grabbed them out of your pantry. I don't want another repeat of Charlie's birthday."

He smirked and she glared as they both remembered the previous summer when she'd been working day and night on a picture of Mt. Rainier for her dad. On the morning of his birthday, he'd found her passed out in the tool shed because she'd forgotten to eat anything in the previous twenty-four hours. The painting was amazing; one of her best, but now Charlie was a little obsessive about feeding her when she was out there. Jacob often helped out.

"That was an isolated incident," she insisted coldly, but she reached for the crushed pastries anyway.

She hated being taken care of, and hated even more to admit that she needed it. Now that she was back in reality, she realized she really was starving.

"No, I'll open them, you'll get crumbs everywhere. Grab the wheel."

She reached for the steering wheel and rolled her eyes. He was obsessive about the upholstery and cleanliness of his precious car.

She watched the road while he carefully peeled open package of crumbling pastries. He would never understand why she liked them so much.

"Who does this guy think he is?" Bella sounded slightly alarmed as they came around the next bend.

He looked up to see a large white truck weaving into their lane at an alarming speed.

"Jake!" she screamed, as the truck barreled toward them, head on.

The food fell forgotten to the floor as he reached up to place his hands over hers and take back control of the car.

It was too late.

There was a flash of white and the deafening screech of metal as the truck plowed into them. Jacob yelled her name, and it was the last thing Bella heard. The feel of his warm hands covering her own were the last thing she felt before the sharp pain in her head consumed her. The darkness took her, and wouldn't let her go.

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Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think. This is my first Twilight AU AH.


	2. Blank Canvas

**Blank Canvas**

Charlie Swan was a man of few words. He didn't like to be the center of attention, he didn't like crowds, in fact, he didn't really like being noticed at all.

Today he'd put all of that aside. Today he'd sat next to the judge and testified against a killer; a heartless murderer. Charlie had been calm, direct, simple, and honest, though he was hurting inside. It had been a long morning, a long afternoon, and he had a feeling as he sat on his porch and replayed the day's events in his head, that he was in for a long night.

He nursed a beer and sat listening to the familiar sounds of the evening. At least he wasn't losing sleep out of guilt, he reassured himself. He'd told the truth, the best he knew how. That man's alcohol level had been five times the legal limit. He had ignored his ex-wife's pleas not to drive home, and had gotten behind the wheel of his oversized white pick-up, turning it into a deadly weapon. His mistake had cost someone else their life, had cost someone else their best friend, had cost someone else their child.

Charlie twirled the unlit smoke in his hand and sighed shallowly. Now the man would pay. Fifteen years in prison was supposed to make everything all right. They called it justice. Charlie shook his head and took another long drink from the bottle. As sheriff, he should've known all about justice… but this time it didn't feel like quite enough.

The courtroom had been crowded. Everyone in the small town took notice of this case and wanted to see it through. Tragedy was something that the town of Forks didn't have to face very often, but when they did, they dealt with it together.

"It's my understanding, Chief Swan, that you were the first emergency responder on site. Is that correct?" Heanly was pacing before him in a gray suit, looking very lawyer-like and professional.

It was a far cry from the way he usually looked in Charlie's presence, wearing a fishing vest and an orange bucket hat.

"That's right," Charlie replied quietly, but clearly.

He was used to being questioned in court, it was part of his job, but this time was different; so horribly different. Everyone in the room, in the whole town, knew it. Many of them, though, especially the lawyers, had to pretend not to.

Heanly stopped pacing and looked Charlie in the eye. Charlie couldn't miss the sympathy in the man's expression as he asked the next question.

"Can you please describe for the court, what you encountered when you first arrived on the scene?"

There had been a lot of discussion on both sides about whether or not it was a conflict of interest for Chief Swan to testify. Judge Bennett had decided though, that with the police force as small as it was, Charlie's testimony was key, both as an expert witness and relative to one of the victims. The court needed his testimony, and Judge Bennett trusted his ability to be straightforward and clinical. He knew there would be difficult emotions. He also knew that Chief Swan wasn't the type of man to let them get in the way.

Charlie took a deep breath and detached himself. It was something he'd trained himself to do when he had to examine a corpse or investigate a missing child case. He pretended he was an outsider. He pretended that he didn't want to leap over the stand and strangle the middle-aged man that was sitting with the defense, looking calm and smug and disgusting. He pretended that he didn't know any of the russet faces sitting in the crowd, the young woman crying on the shoulder of his best friend because her wedding day had been ruined by a tragedy none of them could've imagined.

He cleared his throat and forced himself to look into the pitiful eyes of the attorney. He spoke slowly and clearly, visualizing the scene, but refusing to see any of the faces.

"I got the call at eighteen hundred hours, I was at a wedding, but I was nearest to the scene. It happened right at the border of the Quileute Reservation. I responded to the call immediately."

Heanly nodded, "According to the reports, Chief Swan, you were scheduled to be off duty at the time of this incident. What prompted you to respond?"

"As sheriff, I carry my radio with me at all times, even when I'm off duty. I recognized the description of one of the vehicles by the witness who called 911. It belonged to a friend of my daughter's, it belonged to Jacob Black." His voice didn't waver, and he was grateful. There was still a lot more that had to be said.

"And you knew your daughter was with Mr. Black, is that correct?"

"Yes, that's correct."

"Go ahead and describe what you saw when you got there, Chief Swan, if you would."

"I arrived at the scene roughly six minutes after the initial call. There had been a car accident, um, a head on collision. There was a lot of damage to both vehicles so it was difficult at first to determine what had happened."

Charlie paused and sucked in a breath. "Mr. Black's car was completely crushed and off of the right shoulder in the brush there. The defendant's, Mr. Guild's, pick-up was also in the right lane, facing on-coming traffic. The first thing I did was call for back-up…"

Charlie took another shaky breath and kept going. "Mr. Guild was standing outside his truck yelling incoherently. He was holding onto the driver side door, and seemed to be having difficulty with his balance. At first, I thought he might have suffered a head injury, but later we determined that he was, in fact, severely intoxicated."

"What about the victims in the other car?"

"There was evidence that the car had rolled over, the top was crushed, but the most extensive damage was to the driver side door. That was obviously the point of contact in the accident. Both passengers were unconscious and had suffered head injuries, neither responded to my voice." He swallowed hard. "I managed to get the passenger door open and found that the passenger," his voice was getting thick, as he fought the lump in his throat, "the passenger was still alive, though severely injured. There were extensive injuries to her legs and head trauma." He tried not to study the image in his head, tried not to remember the smothering emotions in his chest. "By this time I had back-up on the scene and we called for Life-Flight assistance."

Heanly had lowered his voice and couldn't quite look Charlie in the face as he asked the next question.

The courtroom waited in silence.

"And the driver?"

Charlie wasn't looking at Heanly when he answered. He was looking into the eyes of best friend, the eyes of a heart-broken father.

"Jacob Black died at the scene."

Heanly walked forward, and if it was inappropriate, no one objected. He placed a hand on Charlie's shoulder and squeezed.

"Thank you Charlie, er, Chief Swan." Then he turned to the Judge, "I have no more questions at this time."

Charlie came back to the present, and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. At Bella's urging, he had given up smoking almost three years before. He didn't keep cigarettes on hand anymore; he'd bought this pack on his way home. He didn't light the one he pulled out, but placed it between his lips and held onto the pack like a child being comforted by a teddy bear.

They had known this day would come. He had protected Bella from the exposure, refusing to allow her to be questioned in court. She hadn't been asked to testify, and he didn't bring up the trial. They never discussed the accident, the funeral, the loss; they never discussed her injuries unless they had to.

He walked to the edge of his porch and looked across the yard to the darkened windows of his tool shed. It had been four months since anyone had set foot in that place. Four months since the day of the accident, the day he lost his little girl. He desperately missed her smile and enthusiasm. He missed the way she would study the world around her, they way she wore her heart on her sleeve, and the way she forced him to notice the beauty of the life they led and the place they lived. She wasn't here anymore. Her eyes were empty; her heart buried somewhere deep inside where no one could touch it. The spark had gone out of her and no one knew how to bring it back. The only person who could've reached her was gone. Her body was asleep upstairs in her bedroom, but her heart had been gone for a long time, and her father missed it desperately.

Memories of the funeral flooded his mind, and he wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand as they flooded too. Only one body had been buried that day, but two souls had been lost.


	3. Grayscale

**Grayscale**

_**Four years later**_

"So you're going to live in this big house all by yourself?"

It wasn't the first time his sister had asked that question, but it was the first time it echoed back to him through the empty rooms of the old Mason House. It was the first time she'd asked it in the context of the present, and it was the first time it had been more of a resigned observation than an anxious inquiry.

It was the same answer he'd always given, followed by the same exasperated statement.

"Yes, and I still don't know why you insisted on coming with me."

She poked her head around the corner and glared at him, her black hair framing her face in wild disarray, made worse from the long car ride.

"If it was left up to you, you'd throw a cot down in this empty living room, you'd eat frozen dinners out of the freezer, you'd wallow in self pity and self loathing, and you wouldn't even bother to pull the covers off of the furniture. If you _insist _moving away from your loving and devoted family, throwing the beginnings of a _very_ promising career to the dogs, and starting 'fresh', you need to do so on the right foot. This place needs a woman's touch, and you need a good kick in the pants." Her expression was furious, and her assessment was absolutely correct. "I know you think I came here to support you, but I didn't," she lied. They both knew it, but she continued anyway. "I came to make sure you don't screw this up."

Edward couldn't help but grin. Those words from anyone else would have made him very, very angry; but she was forgiven. Alice knew him too well.

They had all tried to talk him out of doing this: his father and mother, his brother Emmett and his sister-in-law Rose… and Alice. Alice had been the worst. She had screamed at him about ruining his life, telling him to be a man and that it was time to move on. She tried convincing him to stay in Chicago to ride it out, insisting that he would forget; that running away to the old family estate wasn't the answer.

He had tried it her way and it hadn't worked. He had been miserable and despite their best efforts, his family couldn't help. He'd closed himself off to the world and he'd felt claustrophobic. Even in that big sprawling city he'd felt trapped by his past. He'd had to get out, away from Chicago and the memories and the people who couldn't forgive him. He couldn't blame those people. He couldn't forgive himself either.

Alice had seen that it was a lost cause to try to keep him in Chicago. He'd never get over what happened as long as he stayed there. She had been the one to bring up the Mason House, the old family estate in Washington. If he was determined to start over, she decided the best she could was to help him move, get him settled, and make sure he was really going to start fresh.

She didn't admit that she hated the rain and the mossy smells of the Pacific Northwest. She missed her boyfriend back home and her job as an interior designer.

She knew though, that if she let Edward take off on his own she would miss him too, and besides that, they would all worry. She'd decided, like always, to take things into her own hands. She would take one for the team. Her mom wouldn't be able to stop worrying about him. Their mother, Esme, would call him every day and beg him, tearfully and lovingly, to come back. That would never work and it was no way for him to live.

These were the reasons that Alice took a month off from her job to be with him. Somebody had to do it. Somebody had to see that he didn't drown in his depression half-way across the country with no one there to pull him up again.

That's what sisters were for, she told herself, after all.

~B~

Angela Weber was shaking her head and smiling at her best friend as she surveyed their handiwork.

"It's so wonderful Bella."

Bella was wiping dust from her knees as she stood up. She had been right to move the hand-made ceramic pots from the floor to the bottom shelf. They would be more noticeable now. She lifted her hands and placed them on her flat stomach, trying to calm the butterflies that had taken up restless residence there.

"I can't believe I'm opening tomorrow."

"You're ready," Angela told her with an assuring smile. "Everything will be great."

"Angie's right honey," her dad came over and draped an arm over her shoulder in an almost hug. "This place looks amazing, I'm really proud of you kid."

They shared a look, both remembering, but neither one acknowledging the long and difficult journey it had taken to get to this place.

He gave her a brief squeeze, "I've got to get back to the station. Clallum County Fire just hired a couple of rookies, and I've got to go meet them."

"Duty calls Sheriff," his daughter smiled, and he felt a tug in his chest when he saw it. This was right for her, she would be better now. "Don't give them too hard of a time." She leaned up to peck his cheek and then she brought him his coat.

"Of course not," Charlie said, zipping up his coat and left his daughter and her best friend to price the last of the inventory for her store - no, he corrected - shop. She was determined that it would be referred to as a gift shop at the very least, gallery was the preferred description. She said it sounded more pleasant that way.

Once outside he surveyed the building from the sidewalk. He'd helped her paint it yellow, a dark mustardy yellow. It was an awful color, Charlie had concluded when he'd picked the paint up for her in Port Angeles. He had told the man who sold it to him that they had obviously made a mistake.

"No sir," the man had replied shaking his head, "she was very specific. I showed her all kinds of paint samples, because I don't like to see people disappointed. Look here," he had pulled out a magazine clipping that a photograph of a field of wheat waving in the sunlight. There was a big circle around the brightest corner of the photo and the words, "_Like this, only a little more Sienna_," were written boldly in his daughter's handwriting. That was just like Bella, so Charlie didn't argue anymore.

"Oh well," he said resigned, "I guess it will look better once it's up on the walls."

The seasoned sales man had shaken his head, looking doubtfully into the still opened bucket.

"The thing is," he'd informed Charlie, "it gets about two shades darker when it's up and dry. I told her that. You remind her that I can't take back custom mixtures… now if she gets a little up there and doesn't like it, we can try tinting it one way or the other, I don't mind that, but this is going to be hard to work with."

"She knows what she likes," Charlie had told the man. "I'm sure this will be fine." He had taken one last look into the bucket before he resealed it. "I certainly wouldn't have picked it though."

"If you think that's bad, I'm afraid to show you the trim color."

Charlie smiled remembering. She said she wanted her place to stand out, and it did. But not in the obnoxious way that Charlie had expected and worried about. It looked pleasant, almost sophisticated. The dark reddish brown trim and her light beige sign all went very well with the dark yellow background. Looking at what she'd accomplished, the paintings in the front windows all done by local artists, the handcrafted pots and ceramic knick-knacks, and her little apartment, sitting above it all. She was on her own, and finally, thriving. He was almost bursting with paternal pride mixed with overwhelming relief.

He didn't bother to get into his cruiser, and barely noticed the rain as he left _Shoppe Bella, Gallery & Gifts_, which was located on a corner, and walked conveniently, right across the street to the fire station.

George was there to meet him when he walked in, and Charlie smiled as he heard Tyler's familiar laugh float down the hallway along with the clinking of billiard balls.

"Captain Crowley," Charlie peeled off the wet raincoat and nodded at his old friend.

George smiled and took it from him, hanging it on a hook by the door. "Afternoon Sheriff, glad you could make it. I though the new guy ought to get used to your pretty face before he settled too comfy into the job."

"I appreciate it," Charlie smiled. "Wouldn't want to shock him with my devastatingly good looks while out on the job now would we. Very considerate of you George, but weren't there two rookies?"

"That's right, but I think this guy is already a familiar face." He nodded over Charlie's shoulder to where three young men were making their way down the hall.

George's son came first. Tyler Crowley was tall like his father, but that's where most of the physical similarities ended. His hair was dark black and curly, like his mother's, and like her, his eyes were honey colored, wide, and friendly. His father's blue eyes could twinkle with a smile, but were sharp and narrow and quick to catch details. A skill that came in handy during arson investigations.

Next to Tyler, Charlie was surprised to see wide shoulder's supporting a familiar russet face.

"Well, well, well, how're you doing Quil?" Charlie greeted the young man with a handshake.

"Not too bad Sheriff," Quil grinned. "Surprised to see me?"

"A little bit," Charlie smiled, "guess your dad couldn't wrangle you into the family business after all?"

"No sir," Quil laughed. "Turns out running the grocery store on the Rez isn't my life's ambition. Luckily I have a little sister who seems to think that would suit her just fine."

"Glad to hear it," Charlie nodded with a laugh.

"And this is Edward Cullen," George spoke as Charlie extended his hand to the third young man.

He wasn't quite as tall as Tyler, or and thick as Quil. He was somewhere in between. He looked healthy and fit, despite his pale complexion. He had light topaz colored eyes and darker, almost reddish hair. His face was chiseled and angular. The smile that he greeted Charlie with was warm, but seemed almost forced.

"Nice to meet you Sheriff," he said politely, taking Charlie's hand with a firm grip.

"Call me Charlie," he smiled back. "Welcome to Forks."

"Edward here is from Chicago," George reported helpfully. "He's not exactly a rookie; he came with high praise and three years of experience."

The young man barely smiled and dismissed George's description with a wave of his long hand.

"Well I'm a rookie when it comes to forest fires and getting cats out of trees, which Tyler here tells me is the bulk of your calls. So I guess the title is appropriate."

"Yes, I suppose life here will be pretty quiet compared to what you're used to," Charlie tried to read the flicker of shadow behind Edward's eyes when he spoke, but before he could decide if it was sadness or anger it was gone. "Don't let George be too hard on you."

"You're giving him the wrong impression Sherriff," George laughed. "We're going to break them in easy aren't we Tyler?"

"Whatever you say Captain," Tyler grinned at his father.

"Yes sir," George nodded. "There's a storm coming in, so we'll just stick close to home. Tyler, you go with Quil. Edward, we'll see how you do on your own. I want you boys to divide up this stack of papers and we'll break you boys in with some Fire Code enforcement."

Tyler groaned, and George laughed. "Go on. I'll stay here in case a blue moon decides to rise and the bell rings. Take your radios just in case."

He handed Edward and Tyler each a clip board and two addresses. "I suppose in Chicago they have city workers for this sort of thing, but in Forks we take care of _all_ aspects of fire prevention."

"Because we have nothing better to do," Tyler pointed out glumly.

"And we try to not complain about it," George finished, pretending to look sternly at his son.

"The operative word being 'try'," Charlie concluded and winked at Edward who smiled, this time genuinely.


	4. Still Life

**Still Life**

"I'll be here at seven, in case you decide to go ahead and move that table closer to the door before we open." Angela and Bella were in the back office and Angela was putting on her coat. "I'll bring coffee."

Bella looked up from the computer monitor, where she was running numbers, and smiled at her friend. "You don't have to," she told Angela. "Just come at eight. Sleep in a little."

"Don't be silly," Angela said, picking up her purse and hooking it over her shoulder. "Ben leaves at six and I can't ever go back to sleep. I'll come in at seven; it'll give me something to do."

Bella rose out of her shiny new office chair and came around the desk to give her friend a hug. "Alright then. Thank you for everything."

"You're welcome," Angela spoke into her hair. "Thank _you _for giving me a job. This is such an amazing place; I would've tried to work here even if I _wasn't_ going to get to be with my best friend every day."

Bella smiled and broke the hug. "You've been great Angie, and I would've hired you even if you _weren't_ my best friend."

Angela's smile turned serious and she took Bella by the hand. "I know you don't like to talk about him honey, but I just want to tell you that I think Jake would be really proud of you."

Bella didn't try to hide the tears that came to her eyes. "Thank you," she whispered when she couldn't find her voice.

Angela kissed Bella's cheek and squeezed her hand. "Tomorrow we open!" she squeaked excitedly, lightening the mood. "See you at seven, boss!"

Bella laughed and followed her through the main shop to the front entrance so that she could lock the door behind her.

"Wow, look at that rain!" she exclaimed. "Are you sure you want to drive home in it?"

The water was plummeting through the darkness and hitting the glass windows with a rumbling force. Listening a little harder, Bella thought that part of the rumble could've been due to thunder. There was definitely a storm brewing.

"If a little rain is enough to scare an Olympic Peninsulan out of driving, then they're living in the wrong part of the world." She pulled up her hood and opened the front door, making the little bell above it chime. "I'll be fine, see you tomorrow!"

Bella kept the door open and watched her friend drive away before she pulled her keys out of her pocket to lock up for the night. Just as she was pulling the door closed against the rain, a hand shot out and blocked her from shutting it. A dark figure forced his way inside and slammed the door shut behind him, cursing as he shook water from his auburn hair.

"Sorry to bother you," he said. His voice was low, velvet, and tinged with annoyance. He offered no explanation or apology for his sudden appearance. He didn't seem to notice that Bella was pale, or that she had a trembling hand up over her mouth to stifle a scream. He strode forward into the shop without introducing himself and pulled a clipboard out from under his hoodless jacket.

"I-I'm sorry," Bella stuttered when she found her voice again. "I'm not open for business…"

Her voice drifted as he finally looked up from his work to acknowledge her. Her breath shortened and she forgot what she had been going to say. His eyes, so deep and penetrating… were angry. They were focused on her and his expression was dark. His auburn hair, glistening in disarray, was soaked from the rain outside. His hairline was high, and set off his brow that angled into chiseled cheek-bones and a strong, almost defiant, jaw. His mouth was set in a grim line. He seemed exasperated at the interruption. He was beautiful.

"I'm here to do your fire code inspection," he told her shortly, looking away again.

He felt a tinge of regret when he realized by her voice and expression that he had scared her. He wanted to apologize, but then thought better of it. He didn't want a repeat of the scene he'd just left. His inspection of Mallory Pet Shop had lasted nearly four hours – three and a half longer than necessary. He'd learned that politeness only brought on unwanted female attention and un-requested phone numbers. He wanted to be done for the day.

"Okay," she said slowly. "Do I... I mean, do you need me for anything?"

"I'll let you know," he replied, gazing around the room, and focusing on an extension cord that was running under a throw rug. He walked over to look closer.

"Alright, I'll just be in the back office… if you need something. I'm the owner. My name is Bella, by the way." She waited a moment for a reply, but didn't get one. He didn't even bother to look up from the clip-board he was now scribbling on as he bent over the plug that hosted the cord he examined.

_What's his problem?_ she thought as she returned to the back office. Her heart was barely back to its normal pace. She sat down at her computer and took a deep breath before going back to her accounts. She tried to concentrate on the work at hand and to put his intense eyes and glorious face out of her mind.

He watched her retreat through a door at the back of the store. He'd noted her hand was trembling when she used it to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she disappeared through the doorway. _I am such a jerk_, he thought, fighting back the remorse that was trying to attack his conscience. He could've at least apologized for startling her, introduced himself… told her she had beautiful eyes.

_No_, he thought, and shook himself out of it. No, that was Alice talking. He cursed her for not only taking up residence in his house, but in his head as well. He was starting over. The old Edward would maybe have done those things, but not him, not now. He would have no attachments here; nothing to hold him back, nothing to lose.

With these thoughts he continued his inspection. He noted that there weren't any clearly marked exit signs. There were smoke detectors, and a brand new fire extinguisher behind the register, but there was no clear indication of where it was or how it should be used. He made some more notes. There weren't any flammable debris on the ground. In twenty minutes his inspection was almost complete, and as his eyes roamed the walls for any exposed wires, he let them rest on one of the many paintings that were displayed.

His first impression was that his mother would love it, and then as he studied it further, he realized he liked it as well. It was small and simple; a boat on a lake at sunrise. The way the artist had made the light reflect off of the water was astonishing. The figure in the boat was undefined, and made Edward feel like it could've been him sitting in the quiet, first light of the morning. Perhaps he was listening to the water lap at the side of the boat, looking at the reflections of pine and clouds mirrored on the lake. The fresh, crisp air and the calling of birds… The lights flickered around the store, and roused him from his trance.

He heard what had been the constant tapping of a keyboard in the back office pause for a moment. There was a flash of lightning, and then in the midst of a roll of thunder the lights went out completely so that he couldn't see the artist's name.

Edward cursed under his breath and carried his clipboard toward the office door, feeling his way with his feet. There were no windows inside the cramped workspace of the back office, and it was pitch black. He tried to make out Bella's shape behind the desk, but his eyes weren't yet adjusted to the blackness. He waited for her to say something, and then when she didn't, he wondered if she had gone upstairs. He was about to call for her when he heard gasping; the familiar sound of panicked breathing.

"I can't hear you," her voice called out frantically through the dark. It didn't have the uneasy waver he'd heard from her when he'd startled her coming in, but now it was filled with what was simply naked fear.

He stayed in the doorway until he could make out her silhouette behind the desk. She was still, only her shoulders moving with each frantic breath.

"I didn't say anything," Edward told her carefully. He watched her start, as though he had frightened her. It was as if she hadn't expected his answer.

"Oh," she breathed out, and he sensed her relief. "Okay, I'm sorry." She struggled to get control of herself. "Th-the power must have gone out." She took another unsteady breath. "This is quite a storm."

"Yeah," Edward said, and stayed where he was. He had the odd urge to go and comfort her. He fought it back.

"I - I don't have any candles." Her barely controlled voice broke with each breath and echoed around the room. "We need light – I – I need light."

Edward reached in his pocket for his keys. He had a flashlight on his keychain and he shined it toward the desk. "That better?" He kept his voice even, trying to hide his bewilderment.

He was startled when he looked at her face and saw that it was white as a sheet and sparkling with what looked like tears. Her hands trembled on her lap, and her teeth were digging into her bottom lip. Her eyes were wide, and her pupils looked dilated.

This time he didn't fight the urge he had to go to her. Later, when he was home and alone with his thoughts, he would blame it on his firefighter training. It had nothing to do with how vulnerable she looked. Her beautiful, wide, frightened eyes had nothing to do with it. She was simply a person who needed his help, nothing more.

"Are you okay?" He shined the light directly into her face. "What's wrong?" This had to have something more to do with than just the power going out. She looked like she was falling apart.

"Nothing." She stayed totally still in her office chair and he swung it around and knelt next to her. On instinct he reached for one of her trembling hands and it felt small, icy, and limp in his own. "I'm alright." Her eyes focused on his face, but were still terrified.

"Are you sure?" He searched her face for signs that she was going to pass out or become hysterical. He was ashamed to realize that if he had to choose between the two, he was hoping for the first. He didn't know how to deal with the second.

She seemed to be gradually pulling herself together. She loosened the grip her teeth had on her lower lip and tried to force a smile. "Yes." She seemed embarrassed, but he was pleased to hear that her voice was stronger. "Yes, I'm fine."

He wanted to believe her, so he took the light out of her face and moved away before he also followed the urge he suddenly had to pull her close to him and hold her there. Instead, he forced himself to go back to becoming detached and professional. He brought the light down on the clipboard he had laid on the desk when he'd taken her hand. Now his own felt oddly empty, so he picked up the papers.

"I'm all done here," he informed her, trying to ignore the awkwardness between them. "There's a little bit of wiring that you need to take care of. You can't have that extension cord out there – the one that goes to the register. You'll need to get some wiring that's more permanent. Do you know a good electrician?"

"Yes," she replied, looking up at him. For a brief moment, his face was bathed in glorious light, and she thought she saw something in his eyes. It was something gentle and kind. Now it was gone, but she remembered vividly how soothing it had been. How quickly it had driven back the panic that was threatening, once again, to engulf her.

He was back to being cold and distant, but she felt that she had seen, just for an instant, something warm and kind. She was conscience that her heart was still racing, but knew that now it had nothing to do with the dark. Something about this strange man forced her awareness.

Despite the humiliation she now felt, and the fact that he probably thought she was insane, she couldn't help but find comfort in his presence. Bella tried not to think about what might have happened if he hadn't been with her. If she had been alone in the blackness, and forced to face her ghosts.


	5. Easel

**Easel**

~J~

It wasn't fair.

A slim man with silky blond hair was pacing the small, filthy room. His hands were shaking with anger. His footsteps echoed across the bare wooden floor. A storm raged outside. The thunder seemed to echo his thoughts, the pounding rain keeping time with his aching heart.

There was no going back now. There was no way to fix it. It was over. It was done.

He let out an animalistic roar of rage before he fought to regain his composure. He hated feeling lost and powerless.

He stalked to the hearth and picked up the waiting gas can. He dumped a generous amount over the partly burnt log and dropped a match on top. The fire would calm him, even in this small scale; he could absorb power from the flames. He watched in awe and his breathing slowed as he appreciated the way the bright fingers of heat flickered up and devoured. He was hypnotized and warm. Calm.

He knew what he had to do now. They had to make it right. They would have to make their own justice. He would do it for the life that was lost. For the girl in the next room, weeping in anger and crushing grief.

He knew where the blame really lay. The system had failed them. He knew how to make it right. It would take patience and planning, sense and skill, but in the end, those who were responsible would pay. Justice would be sweet, and it would be theirs. He would make certain of it.

~E~

He cursed as he missed the entrance to his driveway. Again. He was distracted by memories of his evening. There was a pair of panicked, chocolate eyes that he couldn't get out of his mind… but he blamed the rain as he turned the car around and tried again. First thing in the morning he was going to cut the hedge back to the mailbox, and invest in a couple of those cheesy round reflectors.

The lights were still on downstairs, indicating that Alice was still up, which meant he would be required to provide a detailed description of his day. He sighed. All he really wanted to do was sleep.

He ran through the rain with his coat up, though his collar was already soaked. He pushed open the front door and slammed it shut behind him against the wind. "I already hate the weather," he announced, assuming that Alice was somewhere near by.

"I like it," she trilled from the next room. "I've had four cups of cocoa and gotten through one and a half of those silly romance novels that Rose sent with me. It's cozy."

Edward pulled off his boots and followed the sound of her voice to the living room. He took one look around and grinned. "Wow Al, you've been hard at work. I don't know how you found time to read, but I believe I'm looking at the result of a massive sugar rush from all the cocoa."

Alice, standing in the middle of the room with a bandana tied over her spiky hair, winced. "Do you like it?"

She'd scrubbed everything until it shone. She'd pulled all of the covers off the collection of surprisingly contemporary and simple furnishings. They were rearranged in a closer setting, facing the wide windows on the south side of the house. The formal dining room opened up behind it. The long table and chairs had been polished to a shine; the table was even set with the few dishes that had been stored in the cupboards.

"It looks great," Edward said with a smile.

"It looks bare," Alice replied. "But I have good news! I was in town, at the grocery store. Have you seen it?" Alice was prone to asking questions without actually requiring an answer. "It's so darling… Anyway, I met this lovely woman named Nancy Cheney, and she was talking to the girl behind the register, Leah, I think, was her name. They were all excited because there's this new little gift shop opening tomorrow." She frowned as a thought occurred to her, so she paused. "You aren't working tomorrow, are you?"

Edward didn't respond right away. He waited a bit to see if this was one of her repetitive questions, or if she actually cared. She tapped her foot impatiently and raised one eyebrow. "No," he replied. "Not until four."

"Oh good!" She pranced over to where he was standing beside the windows. "Then we can go!"

"Go?"

"To the gift shop! I guess it's sort of an art gallery too. It's the talk of the town."

"Wait." Edward held up a hand. "Why?"

"So we can _buy_ things," Alice replied, as though that were the most obvious answer. She rolled her eyes when he seemed unenthused. "For you house?" she prompted. "To decorate?"

He frowned down at her. "This epic gift shop wouldn't happen to be called _Shoppe Bella_?"

"Yes!" She sang happily. "Even you've heard of it, so it must be worth something."

"I was just there." Edward pulled off his coat and draped it lazily over the back of the couch. Alice absently picked it up and folded it over her arm, following him as he headed for the kitchen.

"Was it wonderful?" she asked. "Did you see anything you need? I was thinking a couple of smaller paintings and one of those long shelves like mom has in the entry for this wall. And then just one big, splashy landscape for the dining room –"

"The girl there is weird," Edward muttered, interrupting Alice's vision.

"What?" Alice turned to him curiously. "Her name's Bella, right?"

"Right." Edward sighed impatiently as he dug through the cupboard for a bowl and a box of cereal. "Obviously."

"Something happened to her," Alice said as she hung Edward's coat up on a hook next to the back door. She fussed over the collar for a minute before turning around.

"What do you mean?" Edward stopped opening drawers in search of a spoon, long enough to frown curiously at his sister who shrugged.

"I don't know." She opened the only drawer he hadn't touched and handed him the prize. "I didn't want to ask, being sort of an outsider and all, but it was something in their voices when they talked about her." She shook her head remembering. "I think it must have been something awful."

He remembered that pale, haunted look she'd warn when he'd first shined the light on her face. _Yeah,_ he thought to himself_, it must have been something awful._

~B~

"How much longer?" He looked down at her concentrated face from his perch on the log.

She sat with her legs crossed and her back to the ocean, a sketch-pad in her lap. "A few more minutes… hold still."

He sighed, exaggeratedly, and tried to maintain the pose she'd put him in.

"Almost done," she announced, and a few minutes later she hopped up off the ground and walked over to him, sitting next to him and handing him the sketch.

"Nice job." He grinned and draped an arm over her shoulder. "You just keep getting better." Then he squinted down at the page. "You made my eyes look weird though."

"I know." She sighed in agreement. "I just can't get them right for some reason. I have piles and piles of pictures with your eye-less face. I just can't get the shape right."

"Why not? You see them all the time." He looked up to find her studying him intensely.

"Maybe it's the lashes," she ventured. "They're _really_ long. They look okay in person, but in a portrait they look sort of… I don't know, _girly_." She had already jumped up and was running across the beach, when he leapt up and went after her.

"What did you say?" He was right behind her now, if he really wanted to, he could grab the back of her coat. Though he decided it would be more fun to let her think she had a chance for just a minute.

"I _said_," she turned suddenly, intending to throw him off by changing direction, but not expecting to see him so close behind her. "That you have girly eyes." The last word was nearly cut off with a breathless laugh as he grabbed her around the waist and began to drag her toward the ocean.

"No Jake, no!" she shrieked as she writhed to escape his grasp. "I was joking!" The cold water was swirling around their ankles. "Please, it's freezing! I didn't mean it!"

"Yes you did." He was also laughing, and grunting with the effort it took to keep her upright and in place. "You said it twice." He pulled her in deeper. "Now you're going to pay."

The frigid water was almost to their waists now. "You're getting wet too." Bella observed, tiring suddenly and evidently giving up. "I'm sorry," she said sincerely, but he noted that she wasn't looking him in the face.

"Are you?" He kept a firm hold on her arms.

"NO!" She shrieked and yanking her arms forward unexpectedly, she sent him tumbling into the water. She didn't mind in the least that she was going down with him, as long as it was on her terms.

Bella sat up in bed gasping. The icy water that swirled around her moments ago materialized as tangled bed-sheets and a damp sweat. Her heart pounded in her chest, in the place where laughter had built. She felt the all too familiar sense of confusion, and then the sting of disappointment, followed by the relentless fingers of grief.

Memories she could fight back during the day always came back in the night. She knew it was better than the blackness, but it hurt in a different way.

She closed her eyes and fought desperately with her mind. The eyes that had once been impossible to put down on paper were also becoming impossible to remember. She reached for a picture on her nightstand and searched it hungrily. They were there. Bella pushed back her tears and returned the picture to it's place, though she turned it to face the bed. She lay down on her pillow and stared into those eyes until her alarm sounded hours later.

Her body and most of her mind knew that it was time for a new beginning, but there was a tiny corner of it that was still holding back, waiting to catch up.


	6. Pigment

**Pigment**

Bella was in her element. It was funny; no one in this town ever imagined that Bella's element would turn out to be a crowded room full of people. But here she was, smiling and laughing - feeding off of the chaos of bartering and boxing. Receiving compliments and answering questions. Here, she found her niche.

From the moment they opened doors that morning to welcome half of the town, Angela and Bella hadn't been able to communicate much more that exchanging breathless smiles across the room. At the rate things were going, Bella was going to need to restock the majority of her inventory before lunchtime. It was unexpected, and it was excellent.

"Oh, isn't this sweet?" Mrs. Newton asked as she held up a ceramic vase painted with orchids. "Did you do this too, Bella?"

Bella came around from behind the register and pushed one of her French braids behind her shoulder. "No Mrs. Newton, there's a woman down in Vancouver who does those for me. Don't you think they're nice?"

"You're so cute, calling me Mrs. Newton," she said with a laugh. "I feel like I'm back volunteering in your second grade class. When are you going to start calling me Susan?"

Bella blushed and smiled. "Old habits die hard," she replied. When she noticed Susan's loaded arms she asked, "Would you like me to hold some of that at the register for you?"

"Sure, that would be great." She laughed and walked over the counter to dump her goods, including the painted vase. "Oh look! My Mike is here!"

The bell over the front door chimed as Bella said, "Yes, he's going to do some electrical work for me."

"Wow Bella! This is great!" Mike Newton stood just inside the door with his hands in his pockets and a bright grin on his face.

"Thanks Mike, and thanks for coming."

"No problem, work is sort of slow right now. Hey, is that my mom?" he asked.

Bella laughed and said, "Yeah, she's turning out to be an awesome customer."

"As if she needs any more knick-knacks," Mike shook his head and wandered over to look over his mothers shoulder. "No mom, no more picture frames! Dad will kill you."

The older woman shoved him playfully on the shoulder. "He won't kill me for looking. See this silver collage one? Isn't it sophisticated? It would look great on the entry wall, and you know what would look really good in it? I still haven't hung up all of your graduation pictures…"

"No." Mike shook his head vehemently. "No way."

"Aren't you here to work?" Angela came over to wave him away. "Go help Bella and leave your poor mother alone." He gave his mother a mock-threatening glare, but took Angela's advice and went back to Bella.

"Alright Bella, what do you need?" Mike asked, walking over to where she stood beside the register.

Before Mrs. Newton began shopping and Mike arrived, Bella had been trying to open a fresh package of tissue paper. Bella was unable to focus on her task though, as she was once again distracted. Her eyes were drawn to the front window, where a young, dark-haired girl and a tall, pale young man were standing outside. The girl was motioning enthusiastically as they discussed the front window display. Bella felt her heart speed up at the sight of the familiar bronze hair.

"Earth to Bella," Mike said with a laugh when she didn't answer him.

She started and shook her head. "Sorry Mike, what did you say?"

"I was asking what you needed me to do."

"Right." She blushed, and Mike grinned. He was glad she had called him. He'd been hearing rumors that she was better, and he was pleased to see that they were true. The embers of an old crush where flaring up again, and this time he wasn't going to fight to extinguish them. This time he might have a chance.

"Um," she started, having a hard time getting her bearings. "Apparently it's against some sort of fire code to have this cord running across the room to the register. Would it be hard to install a permanent plug back here?"

Mike came around the counter to stand beside her. "It shouldn't be. Let me go take a look at the panel and we'll see what I can do. It's in the back right?"

"Yeah, thanks Mike."

He flashed a grin over his shoulder and headed toward the back door, at which point his mother snuck forward, towing the big silver collage frame and smiling sheepishly. "Alright Bella, hurry and ring me up before he comes back."

~E~

The inside of the shop looked much the same as it had the night before, but the girl behind the counter, who was laughing with a customer, looked completely different. Edward had to stop and catch his breath in the doorway just looking at her. Her deep brown eyes, which had been wide and terrified merely hours ago, were now sparkling. Her hands, which had been cold and trembling, looked sure and capable as she wrapped the woman's purchases. She looked so happy - so carefree with her apron tied around her slim waist. Her hair was braided in a childish, yet suiting, fashion.

Something warm and liquid was moving in his stomach… something sharp and irritating was jabbing him in the ribs.

"Earth to Edward."

He looked down to find one of Alice's annoyingly knowing eyebrows quirked up at him. He glared back.

"See something you like?" she asked.

He tried to ignore her insinuating tone. "We've been here all of fifteen seconds. So, no."

"I find that 'love at first sight' is always the best philosophy."

"Did I miss something?"

"Not yet," she said.

"Let's just get this done and get out of here," he replied.

"That's not the attitude with which you should approach something as important as home décor..."

He thought Alice might have said more, but he was listening to something else. Bella had just thrown her head back and laughed. It was an infectious sound that travelled through the entire shop and made people smile whether they realized it or not. Edward realized it, though he was trying really hard not to.

Alice was staring at him - he could feel it. He tried to put a scowl back in place before he met her eye.

She shook her head and said decisively, "You shop. I'm going to go talk to her."

"Be my guest."

"No Edward," she said and looked at him sadly. "That was your line."

The scowl came back on its own while a tall honey-haired girl approached them.

"Hi, welcome to Shoppe Bella," she said. Her smile faltered only a little when she saw his expression, but it brightened when she focused on Alice – she just seemed to have that effect on people. "My name is Angela, can I help you find anything?"

"This place is amazing!" Alice was all but clapping her hands together.

"I know right?" Angela smiled proudly. "My best friend is the owner. We just opened this morning. Are you visiting the area?"

"I am," Alice said, always quick to make friends. "This is my brother Edward. He just moved here from Chicago and I'm helping him decorate the house. I'm an interior designer."

"Oh, awesome!" Angela was leading the way to the wall of paintings. "Everything here is from local artists and manufacturers. Bella's done many of the paintings herself."

"Oooh, Edward! Look at this one!" Alice was moving toward the same painting that Edward had admired the night before – the one of the man in the boat on a lake. "Our mother would just love this," Alice said as she eagerly scanned the wall for more.

"That's one of Bella's," Angela said with pride. "It's part of a series. She's painting the same scene over and over in different light settings. This one is called Breaking Dawn. She's working on Twilight now, and it's amazing. Then she's going to do a couple of darker ones; New Moon and Eclipse."

"What an incredible idea!" Alice said admiringly, while she tapped one of her tiny fingers on her chin. "We'll take all four."

"Excuse me?" Angela asked with pleased surprise.

"Yeah. What?" Edward echoed.

"Oh come on." Alice rolled her eyes at her brother. "You know you need them. That big wall in the living room just begs for them, and the shelf in the window display. Actually we'll take the whole display; the vase, the candles, everything. It's perfect. Who puts the displays together?" Alice was in full design mode.

"I do." Angela blushed.

"You have a knack for it," Alice said with approval. "You should think about interior design, you'd be great at it."

"Oh no, no." The girl became flustered.

"Really!" Alice said brightly. "Can you show me what you have as far as mirrors go? We need a tall one for the hallway and maybe a couple of smaller round ones, unframed."

The two girls walked away, chattering, and Edward was forgotten. He felt like growling at Alice for leaving him alone amongst shelves of flowery vases and delicate figurines. He suspected he was being punished for something, though he wasn't sure what.

"Um, can I help you find anything?" He knew it was her before he even turned around. Her voice had the same soft melody even though it was bright now, instead of frightened.

He turned around and watched her eyes darken in recognition. A deep scarlet blush bloomed on her whole face and neck. He tried not to dwell on how becoming it was with her bright blue apron.

"I'm just here to carry packages for my sister." He tried to smile, but it felt off.

"Oh." She took a couple of steps back in retreat. "Well, um, let me know if I can help you with anything. Oh, and I'm taking care of those electrical problems, so do I, um, call you for another inspection, or…?" Her voice trailed off as she backed away. She was headed straight for the corner of a shelf holding delicate glass vases. He noticed at the last second and was already reaching for her waist as she began to stumble.

"Careful!" He said it harsher than he meant to, but something about her flowery scent had him putting up his defenses.

"Sorry!" She blushed even deeper. "I'm so sorry."

"Maybe just don't walk backward."

"Yeah." She smoothed out her apron, and turned around to escape.

"Just call City Hall," he told her. "They'll send one of us back out." He almost added something about how great the store was, but resisted. What was he doing?

Alice watched the whole exchange while Angela showed her a display of fabulous mirrors.

Edward's scowl was telling. When he was indifferent, he showed no expression; sometimes he was even polite. This scowl told her that he was fighting to hang on to his misguided notion that he deserved to be alone forever. He was an idiot; a noble, self-sacrificing, unbelievably stubborn idiot.

Luckily, he had a little sister who knew what was best for him. Plus, she was perfectly willing to act on it.

~J~

He'd explain to her that they wouldn't need accelerants; the place was dripping with enough turpentine to light up a ten story building.

The idea had made her smile - she'd love to watch a building that big go up. He promised her they would do it sometime. He promised her anything these days; anything that would distract her from the pain and make her smile.

She was definitely smiling as she watched the little flame explode into a mass of fiery fingers and hot air.

This was justice.

_Let him try to sort this out_, she thought with a dark smile. He didn't deserve to live happily and peacefully - neither did his family. Especially her. Then again neither did anyone else they interacted with. This was a round-about way of telling them so, and it was a nice distraction while they put together the real fireworks.

She was laughing as they drove away - they both were.

At one time, there might have been a third laugh to mingle with theirs in perfect harmony, but that time was past. It hurt.

That was why they were here.


	7. Turpentine

**A/N: So... I'm spending way more time and energy on this fic than I should be. I already had two other stories going when I started this one, and they are being neglected. I feel guilt. Oh well. Thanks for being patient with the sloooow build up. I want this plot to be well established and I want to make sure I take my time and remember the details. I'm tired of reading stories that totally rush through to the "good stuff". Good things come to those who wait. **

**Oh, and hey, I'm going to be a guest-host on the notorious and fun Temptation Twilight podcast. If you don't know about it, you should check it out at temptationtwilight(dot)blogspot(dot)com. It's a really fun twilight fanfic podcast, it's a great way to find new and brilliant fics and just to find out what's going on in the fandom in general. I'll be on there in a couple of weeks and I'm super excited! (and nervous)**

**Thanks to HammondGirl for her mad beta skills.**

**Okay. That's all.**

**Turpentine**

~B~

Angela made the largest sale of the first day by selling Edward and Alice Cullen $3,488.27 worth of art, mirrors, shelves, candles, vases, sculptures, book-ends, frames, and three yet-to-be-completed paintings to go with the one she'd just finished of the man on the lake.

Bella tried to stay out of their way, but her heart sped up every time Alice laid another potential purchase on the counter - or whenever Edward caught her eye and gave her a dark, yet bewildered look.

She hated how aware she was of him - how her neck felt like it was burning, and how her feet somehow managed to lose their way more than usual. She stumbled three times during the hour that they were in the shop. She was sure he'd noticed, especially since the first time he'd been the one to stop her from going through a shelf of hand-painted glass vases with a total wholesale value of $217. Her arms were still tingling where he'd touched her. Not because he'd been rough, just because… she didn't know why.

She told herself it was only the embarrassing encounter she'd had with him the night before that made her feel so self-conscious around him. Being unable and unwilling to explain why she'd went to pieces over something as stupid as losing power… that was why she was imagining she could feel his eyes on her now, and why she imagined she could still feel his strong hands on her… surely.

Lauren Mallory stopped by during the Cullen's visit on her lunch hour from the family pet shop. Bella welcomed her - as she did everyone - with, "Hi, let me know if I can help you find anything…" but inside she was screaming for her to leave. Her tight white tee-shirt hugged every perfect curve and was cut embarrassingly low, her jeans seemed to be painted to her thighs, and her hair looking like a straightening iron had exploded in it. She always made Bella feel inferior, but today, for some reason, it was worse.

"This is so great!" Lauren's stark white teeth beamed out from her fake smile. "I didn't think you'd be able to pull it off."

Bella wasn't sure how to respond, but didn't need to. Lauren's eyes were looking past her, widening in recognition, and a real smile was taking place of the fake one.

"Well, well, well…" was all she said before she moved around Bella and made her way toward a miserable looking Edward.

"Hello," she said, stopping too close to him.

"Hi Lauren," he said.

Why was be being polite? _How did he know her name?_

"Fancy seeing you here." She leaned in closer so that he would get a whiff of her new scent which promised 'to excite and intrigue.'

He barely smiled in response and took half a step back. Bella breathed in momentary relief. Lauren didn't have her claws in yet.

Bella was beginning to contemplate how they might have known each other when Mike returned from the back office and interrupted her thoughts. She realized as she was forced to look away that she had been staring shamelessly at Edward for much longer than was necessary or polite. She hoped that no one had noticed, especially not him.

"So here's where we stand with that plug," Mike began as he stopped next to her, blocking her view of Edward while he brushed his hands on the front of his jeans and hooked his thumbs in his pockets. "I don't think it will be a big deal, but I'm going to have to fish the new wire down this exterior wall, which means I'll need access upstairs. Is that okay?"

"Sure Mike," she said as she pulled out her keys and led him back toward the door to the stairs. Part of her wished she could stay and watch Lauren work her notorious 'magic' on Edward, but most of her was relieved she didn't have to.

~E~

The Mallory girl was the last person in the world Edward wanted to run into in Bella's shop. He knew Lauren's type, and while he appreciated what her type had to offer, she wasn't what he was looking for. In fact - he reminded himself - he wasn't looking for any type… Not even the small, pretty, delicate, and creative type.

He thought he'd made that clear the night before when Lauren had all but forced herself on him while he was trying to work. She'd left him no choice but to get out as soon as the inspection was complete. He'd turned down her invitation for a 'more personal inspection' and headed for the exit. She leaned provocatively over the front counter of the pet store with a parting smile and said, "Well if you change your mind, you know where to find me."

He couldn't deny that she was incredibly attractive, slender, and seductive. She knew exactly what to do with her curves and endless legs, but the blond of her hair was just too strawberry for his comfort. She reminded him of someone he'd travelled two thousand miles to forget.

He'd felt Bella's eyes on him when Lauren approached, and he couldn't understand why a sudden surge of guilt made him step back. He didn't know why he didn't want Bella to see him talking to her. It made no sense.

What made less sense though, was the surge of jealousy he experienced when a tall, spiky haired man walked over to Bella and made her smile as she turned toward him. The Mallory person was blocking his view of their conversation, but the next thing he knew, Bella was leading him to a door that opened on a flight of stairs.

He knew from the blueprints he'd seen the night before that there was an apartment up there - most likely her apartment. Why were they going up there now? Was that her boyfriend? Wait … who _cared_ if it was her boyfriend? Hadn't he just been reminding himself that he wasn't looking for anything? He was there to work and forget. That was all.

"I'm sorry Lauren, I've got to run." He hadn't heard a word she'd said with her red lips and low voice.

She looked surprised, but smiled again, flashing a row of perfect teeth. "Alright then, Mr. Cullen, but think about what I've said…"

He didn't think he would, even if he could remember what it was, but he nodded anyway.

He escaped to where Angela was ringing up Alice's purchases. Alice was smiling over every item and promising Angela that they would be back soon. "Tell your friend she's done an amazing job with this place. And you have our number, right? So Bella can call us when the other three paintings are done. Maybe the two of you could come over for dinner sometime and see the place with this stuff all up. You can even take pictures; it would be great for advertising!"

Angela smiled at the idea and said, "That would be great! And I could introduce you to my husband, Ben."

Alice nodded and said, "We have to do it then. I'll call and see when you're available. Maybe tonight!" Alice could never wait for anything.

"I have to be at the station today at four, Al," Edward reminded her, then added hopefully, "Unless you want to do this without me?"

"No," Alice said and looked disappointed, but only for an instant. "Tomorrow then?"

"That works for me." Angela was pleased with the invitation. She wanted an opportunity to talk more about decorating with Alice, and she and Bella had always been curious about the old Mason House. It would be fun to get a glimpse inside. "I'll talk to Bella, but I'm sure she's available. Thank you so much!"

"Please! Thank _you_!" Alice picked up one of the loaded boxes and nodded to Edward to get the other one. "Call me tonight and let me know about dinner. Congrats on the store, it's amazing!"

They headed out the door and began loading their purchases into the trunk of Edward's silver Volvo.

"That is one of the best shops I've been to in a long time." Alice was over the moon about the things she'd found. "I wish this place was in Chicago - I would practically live there. Look at this candle holder Edward! Hand carved!"

But Edward wasn't looking at her, or the candle holder, he was looking through the store windows at a girl who'd returned from upstairs. She was laughing with the tall guy while they lifted the register off the counter. Somehow, at some point within the last twenty-four hours she had gotten under his skin. He didn't think he liked it one bit.

He didn't have time to dwell long on this frustrating fact because the next thing he knew, an alarm was sounding from across the street and the town's only fire engine was pulling out of the station - his station.

"Get in the car Alice!" He was already shoving the last box into the car and running to the driver's side.

"You're not on duty," Alice reminded him as she jumped in and pulled on her seat-belt.

"They don't get a lot of action around here." Edward shifted in to 'drive' and took off after the truck. "I want to see what's going on. They might need me."

Alice rolled her eyes but didn't argue. She knew he couldn't fight his 'hero' complex; it was a part of him. Telling him to ignore a fire alarm was like telling water not to be wet. It was impossible.

Curiosity had her looking forward to meeting the people he'd be working with.

They saw the smoke from three blocks away; a thin billow of black rising up to blend with the gray of the sky.

"That's not enough smoke to be a house fire," Edward observed. "Unless it just started."

Alice thought it looked like plenty of smoke, but didn't say anything. At the speed they were going, she didn't want to distract Edward from driving any more than the fire was already distracting him.

It turned out that Edward was right. It wasn't a house that was on fire, just a little shed in the side yard of white house. Edward stopped the car behind the fire engine and jumped out. George, Tyler, and another fire-fighter Edward had yet to meet were already going to work.

"Need any help Captain?" Edward yelled over the sound of the hose being drug out.

"Edward!" George looked surprised. "No, I think we got this one handled. Stick around though if you want, and watch procedure."

"Yes sir." Edward walked back to the car and leaned against it. Alice had already hopped out to stand beside him.

"Wow," she said as she watched as the flames lick at the side of the building. There was a crash as part of the roof gave, and a series of loud pops.

"There must be a lot of flammable materials in there." Edward was focused on the flames. They were familiar; a friend and an enemy.

"I wonder whose place this is. It's too bad."

"At least it wasn't the house." Edward crossed his arms as another siren approached. "Bet that's the sheriff."

Again, Edward was right. Chief Swan pulled up behind him looking paler and more panicked than Edward thought a Sheriff should over something as little as a shed fire.

"Where's Bella?" he yelled as he ran over the where George was over-seeing the hose.

George turned to look at him sharply. "Do you have any reason to think she's here?"

Edward found himself leaning forward anxiously to hear what they were saying.

Chief Swan was running a hand through his hair as he said, "I don't know, but it's her shed. She stores all her stuff here."

Alice took it upon herself to get involved. "Bella Swan is at her store, we just left there."

Charlie's shoulders sagged with relief and he laid a hand over his heart. "Good, oh good," he said, and then he stood straight and looked at Edward. "You're sure?"

Edward nodded silently.

"That's a relief," he said as he ran another hand through his hair and then got down to business. The fire was almost extinguished.

"Any idea what happened here Charlie?" George signaled for Tyler to keep the stream in place, just as a precaution.

Charlie shook his head. "I haven't been in there for… well, years." He gave George a look that Edward didn't understand.

"What about Bella?" George's voice was low.

"No, Bella hasn't been in there either." Charlie suddenly groaned and shook his head. "What am I going to tell her?"

George didn't answer and Edward noticed Tyler shaking his head sadly as he listened. Now he was sure there was something going on that he didn't quite understand.

Charlie walked back to where he'd left the door of his cruiser open and slammed it shut with more force than necessary. "She finally gets a break, and then something like this happens!" He paced with his hands on his hips, deep in thought, and then looked up suddenly as if realizing he wasn't alone.

"I'm sorry." He shook his head and faced the shed. "It's just… the kid could use a break."

George patted his friend on the back of the shoulder and said, "We understand, don't apologize. Your girl has been through a whole lot and I, for one, think that she's come out of it very well. She's a strong girl Charlie."

"I know it." Charlie's back was to Edward now, so he couldn't see his expression but he heard the sadness in the man's voice. "This is the last place they were together. She's faced a lot of her ghosts but she still hasn't been able to open that door. Guess now she won't have to."

"Do you want to call her?" George asked and offered Charlie his cell-phone.

"No, I'll go pick her up. She should see this in person, and soon, before she hears about it from someone else."

"I agree."

Charlie walked back to his cruiser and drove off to retrieve his daughter.

Edward, confused by the conversation, turned to Alice. "Go ahead and take my car home, I'm going to stick around."

Alice smiled knowingly as she plucked the keys he offered from his hand. "Curiosity killed the cat, you know."

He glared back at her and said, "You're awfully small to be so hugely irritating."

Alice just laughed at him as he walked away. She wondered if he had any idea how deep in he already was.


	8. Palette Knife

**A/N: Hey! I'm updating this story way more often that I thought I would and I'm totally neglecting my other two. Shame on me. Oh well. **

**Thanks HammondGirl at twiligted for beta'ing. Thanks all you people for the reviews and alerts. I heart them all! I like making new friends :)**

* * *

**Palette Knife**

~B~

"Dad!" Charlie had promised he would stop by at lunch time to see how her first day of business was going. Bella, forgetting she had an audience of customers, ran across the store as soon as he walked inside and threw her arms around him. "It's amazing! Everything is going so well!"

Charlie felt a fist clench around his heart as he hugged her back and pressed his face into her hair. "That's great Bells."

She heard something a little off in his voice and took a step back to read his face. "What's wrong?"

"The tool shed caught on fire while I was at work this morning." He didn't see any sense in beating around the bush. He watched the color drain from her face and said, "I'm sorry honey."

"How?" she managed to whisper.

"Probably somebody driving by flicked a cigarette butt or something. It wouldn't take much. That place was… well, pretty flammable."

Bella was looking away as she fought with her tears. It was silly. It had always been silly to treat that stupid shed the way she had; like it was the last link to Jacob. He wasn't in there. Even if as long as she kept the door locked she could pretend he was.

His smell, his smile, and his laugh weren't hidden in the walls of the room where they'd spent so much time together. Leaving everything just the way it had been that last day wasn't going to bring him back.

"Are you alright?" Charlie asked as he brought Bella's chin up to see her face. Her eyes were swimming with tears, but also with determination. There was that look he was so proud of - the look of quiet strength.

"Yeah," she said, forcing a smile. "I mean, I'm sorry your shed is gone, but… it's just stuff Dad. It doesn't mean anything."

"That's my girl." He pulled her toward him and kissed her on the forehead. "George and his crew are there now, putting the fire out and cleaning up. I have to head back out there. I came here to see if you, you know, want to see what happened?"

"No thanks." She blinked the tears away before they could run down her face and smiled. "I should stay here. We've been busy!"

"So I see." Charlie looked around to find that there were half a dozen familiar faces browsing Bella's shelves. "I'm really proud of you," he said, and they both knew he wasn't just talking about how she was handling her new business.

Bella leaned in for a last hug. "Thanks. I'll call you after I close up, okay? Maybe we can have dinner?"

"I'd like that." Charlie turned around and took a step toward the door so that Bella wouldn't see the tears in his own eyes from her simple strength. He knew what it must be costing her to keep it together, and he knew she was only doing it for him.

She didn't want to hurt him by making him think of that awful day and the ones that had followed. Bella knew how much he hated to think about it now that things were finally better.

What she couldn't know was that it hurt him even more that she never let him see how much she was hurting. He pushed open the door and headed back to his car.

She watched her dad walk back to the cruiser and drive away. Then she told Angela she was going to the back to take her lunch break. She waited until she was alone in her office, with the door safely shut behind her, before she fell apart.

~E~

"I can see where Charlie's coming from though," Steve, the fire-fighter Edward hadn't met yet, said. He was a tall skinny man with white-blonde hair, around forty. "I would be over-protective too."

They were sifting through the charcoal and ashes of what was left of the shed. Edward had decided to begin his shift early. There was no point in going home for three hours, only to be back at the station at four.

The fire had burned fast and hot, but some of the cans of turpentine still had part of their labels.

"Wow, what did he store out here?" Edward asked, interrupting the conversation that he didn't quite understand. He didn't have any of his gear, so he was forced to stay out of the ruble and watch from the grass. He circled the wreckage, looking for smoke patterns. Everywhere he looked, he could find evidence of small oil fires. The ashes were littered with bits of what looked like foil packaging.

"Charlie didn't really use this shed once Bella hit - what do you think Tyler - sixth grade?" George said with half a laugh. "This is all her stuff."

Tyler grinned and nodded. "That was about the time she started showing up for school with paint… everywhere."

"Oh, so this is her studio then. That sucks." Edward now recognized the foil packages as what had once been tubes of oil paint. It was no wonder the place had burnt so quickly and thoroughly.

"Was," Tyler corrected, grimacing.

"Excuse me?"

"It _was_ her studio. She hasn't used it for a while now."

The three of them exchanged meaningful looks. Edward realized what it was he'd been seeing in people's eyes whenever they spoke of her - it was pity.

"Why not?" Edward finally asked.

George eyed him for a long moment, and then shrugged. "It's a hard story to hear, son. Charlie doesn't like to talk about it, or hear it being talked about, but I guess you'll be sticking around and you'll probably hear it sooner or later. You might as well have the facts straight."

Edward met his gaze straight on, but felt the hairs on the back of his neck begin to rise. He realized he was a little afraid of what he was about to hear. What could have happened to one girl that could have scarred an entire town?

"It was about three years ago," George began, but was interrupted by Tyler, who took his hat off long enough to wipe his forehead as he paused to lean on his shovel.

"It was four years ago last April," Tyler said.

"Do you want to tell it?" George asked, turning to him.

"No. Sorry. Geez, Dad." Tyler put his hat back on and returned to shifting through ashes.

"Anyway, Bella had a best friend growing up named Jacob Black. Billy Black, Jake's dad, and Charlie are best friends. That's part of what makes it so hard on all of them.

"Well growing up, Jake and Bella were inseparable. They went everywhere together. Made some of the boys in town jealous when Bella got older I think." He gave his son a pointed look and winked.

Tyler just rolled his eyes and shook his head. Edward narrowed his eyes at him, wondering if the interest was still there.

"Well, Jake's sister was getting married and he came over to give Bella a ride to the wedding. Bella was out here painting and lost track of time, so they were in a hurry. This shed was sort of their hang out. You could always find one of them here.

"They were in Jake's little VW Rabbit. I think if they could have been in Bella's Chevy, things might have been different." George's expression was grim. Edward was afraid he already knew where this story was headed.

"They got in a head-on collision with a drunk driver on the 101."

Edward winced, imagining the scraping of metal and the terrifying loss of control he'd experienced with his brother Emmett when he was sixteen. He braced himself for more.

"Jacob was killed immediately; he was already dead when Charlie got there. Charlie, being sheriff, was the first one on the scene. I can't imagine how he must have felt, but he did his job. Bella was in really bad shape; we weren't sure she was going to pull through for a few days. They had to call in Life-Flight to take her from the scene. Charlie was a mess."

George was looking into the distance, clearly re-living that day. He shook his head and continued. "She had some major head injuries, for a while they weren't sure if she'd make a full recovery. She couldn't see or hear for six weeks."

"Excuse me?" Edward felt his heart pounding in his chest; he could picture it all as though it were happening right then. He felt an odd need to protect her. It was the disconcerting notion that she had needed him, and he hadn't been there. It didn't make sense.

"She was deaf for six weeks after the accident, so Charlie couldn't tell her about Jacob. She kept asking for him, asking what had happened, but they didn't know how to communicate with her." Edward watched Tyler shake his head and shudder without realizing it as he worked. "The poor kid was terrified. Charlie resigned his position temporarily, and never left her side. He held on to her hand almost constantly. It was tough to watch.

"She was completely blind for three months, and it took almost a year for her sight to fully recover. Sometimes, if she gets too tired, she get's these awful headaches and can't see very well."

Edward realized he had been staring at George in horror, but couldn't do anything about it. George had been telling the truth when he said Bella's story was hard to hear. What kind of person was able to recover from something like that? What kind of girl could put her life back together enough to do the things that Bella was doing? There was obviously more to her than he realized.

He shook his head remembering her behavior during the power outage the night before. Her reactions made perfect sense now. Of course she was terrified of the dark. Edward found himself wishing he had been more sympathetic, more understanding. The terrified chocolate eyes that had been haunting him over the last twenty-four hours took on new strength and meaning.

Now that he knew more about her, instead of his curiosity being satisfied, he found that he wanted to know more. He needed to talk to her, if only for a few moments, about anything. He needed to get to know her.

Edward saw the Sheriff's car approaching and realized he was about to get his chance.

George opened his mouth again, as if to add more, but then saw Charlie's cruiser pulling up and he shook his head.

He addressed Charlie as he got out of the car by saying, "It's hard to tell if this was arson, but I'm inclined to think it was just a fluke. Probably someone driving by, being careless with their cigarette. That's really all it would take." Then he looked around and noticed Charlie was alone. "She's not with you?"

Charlie shook his head and walked over to them. "No, it's her first day of business; she's busy. But I told her, and she seemed to take it okay."

"Told you she's tough," George said as he offered his old friend half a smile. "There's not really anything here left to save. Have you called your insurance company?"

Charlie nodded and said, "Yes, they'll 'be in touch tomorrow'. It looks like your work here is done buddy."

George nodded. "Well, you know where to find me if you need anything."

"I appreciate it boys." Charlie nodded toward to house and said, "I'm officially off duty for the day, so I'm going to go rustle up a beer and kick back."

"You do that." George was already carrying equipment back to the engine. Edward turned around to follow him, but Charlie stopped him.

"Hey Cullen," he said, and Edward turned back. Charlie was surprised to see the dark expression in his eyes. Momentarily startled, he paused.

"Yeah?" Edward prompted.

"I know you aren't technically on duty yet, so I wanted to say thanks for sticking around."

The young man's smile didn't reach his eyes as he said, "No problem."

Charlie watched them from the porch as they loaded up their gear and drove away. Edward Cullen's dark expression was fixed in his mind. There was something about it that bothered him. Charlie had always prided himself on his instincts about people, but he didn't know what to make of the new guy.

He walked into the house and over to his computer. He didn't see what he was about to do as a violation of privacy. This was his town, and he had a right to know who was in it.

He opened a search engine and typed "Edward Cullen Chicago" into a search engine bar. His eyes widened at the number of results. His beer and plans to relax were forgotten as he leaned forward and began to shift through the headings which included newspaper articles, local news specials, and even a national broadcast. Charlie opened the first link and shook his head in disbelief as he began to read.

"So this is what you're running from," Charlie murmured as he moved on to the next story. "This is where that look comes from."

Three hours later he was still glued to the computer, reading the last of the news reports. He was familiar with Edward's story now, but he found himself with more questions than answers.

"Who are you Edward Cullen?" he asked as he pushed back his chair and wandered over to the window with a view of the charcoaled shed. "And what are you doing in my town?"

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**I've written part of the next chapter already and I can't wait to show you! Let's just say, it taking an unexpected turn... tee hee hee**


	9. Complimentary Colors

**A/N: As always, thanks to my awesome beta HammondGirl (twilighted). Thanks to everyone who's reviewed this. I like to know your thoughts and oppinions and it makes my day when I see you in my inbox. Thanks for being so awesome. Sorry I don't really respond, I didn't even know I could until recently. lol, how lame am I? But I appreciate them all, so THANK YOU!!!**

**I don't have anything else real interesting to say, so let's just get to the point...**

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**Complimentary Colors**

~E~

Edward headed home from his first twenty-four hour shift at the station, exhausted. It was always tiring to learn the ropes of a new job.

After cleaning up the Swan shed fire, there hadn't been much official work to do, so George had given him a book of Washington State and Clallam County procedures to read over. He'd studied it until he felt cross-eyed, then he won a bet with Tyler over which of them could make the best French toast in the morning. His mother Esme's recipe couldn't be beat. Since the loser also had to make lunch, there hadn't been a lot for him to do in the afternoon. He'd had, in his opinion, way too much time to think - A problem he'd remedied with a long, intense, and mostly mindless work-out with the weight-set and treadmill at the station.

He hadn't been able to get what he'd learned about Bella out of his mind. Something about her story was haunting him. She'd been through something terrible, and yet she was able to put her life back together. When he'd seen her the morning before, she had been glowing - thriving in her store. People around her were happier. There was just something about her…

He shook his head at himself. This train of thought would only get him into trouble. He was worn out and not thinking straight. She wasn't special; she was just another girl. Another risk he wasn't ready for.

He pulled up to the house, looking forward to a quiet pizza, which was on the passenger seat next to him, and an early bed-time.

Alice yanked open the door before he'd even mounted the porch steps. "Where have you been?" she demanded, hands on hips, eyes glaring. They rested on the pizza box he was carrying and narrowed accusingly as she pointed, "And what is _that_?"

Edward rolled his eyes. "It's pizza? A new thing the Italians came up with. It's great! It's got a crust and cheese and tomato sauce…"

"Shut up." She glared at him. "And don't tell me you forgot."

He stared blankly at her for a long moment. Then he noted the smudge of flour on her check and the apron that was tied around her waist to protect her 'company clothes.' He groaned. "Oh no."

"Oh yes," she snapped. "Angela, her husband, and Bella Swan are going to be here in half an hour, and since I had to set the table myself, I'm running behind. Go upstairs and clean up so you can let them in." She moved out of the doorway as she spoke and headed back to the kitchen, shouting orders over her shoulder as she went. "Your green shirt and khaki slacks are on your bed. And if you come down here in those horrible navy socks you love, I'll kill you." She paused long enough to turn around and glare menacingly at the pizza box as if it were a dead rodent. "And get rid of that thing."

Ben was a happy, easy going guy. Edward liked him immediately. He worked for the local paper, and was also a correspondent for the Seattle Times. He was good at interviews and at making people comfortable in conversation. His mother had spent a few years in Chicago after her divorce from his father, so they soon found common ground in discussing Chicago's restaurants. It was a conversation which made Edward a little homesick, especially since he had recently discovered what Pacific Northwesterners accepted as 'pizza.'

Angela and Bella had disappeared into the kitchen to give Alice a hand, but not before Bella elbowed Ben in the ribs on the way in and whispered intensely, "We're not finished!"

Ben chuckled and Angela had shaken her head and muttered, "Oh please, you guys."

For a moment, Edward worried that there was a serious argument going on amongst them, but when Bella looked over her shoulder on the way by and winked at Ben, he knew, as his heart hit the floor, that it was some sort of joke.

He didn't have long to dwell on it though, because after a few minutes Alice announced that dinner was ready.

Bella bit her lower lip throughout the entire meal. It was driving Edward insane. She kept glancing up at Ben and shaking her head with a small smile on her face.

Edward was sure the three of them had arrived together. He could only see one car in the back driveway when he'd opened the door. He tried not to stare at Bella. He felt oddly self-conscious - as though somehow, just by looking at him, Bella would know that he knew all about her tragic past. He avoided eye-contact with her, choosing to watch Ben and Angela instead, which turned out to be a mistake as well.

All through the meal Angela would elbow Ben in the ribs if he started to speak to Bella. "Not now," she would hiss, and then she'd glance apologetically at Alice.

If Alice noticed anything, she didn't let on. While she led Angela into a discussion about new curtains for the kitchen, Bella and Ben continued to exchange mocking smiles across the table. Ben would nod knowingly, and then Bella would roll her eyes and shake her head in reply. The silent argument was making Edward uncomfortable, and the never-ending décor conversation was making him feel left out. The meal, while Alice had made everything delicious, seemed to be never-ending. Also, since he'd hid in his room and ate a good half of the pizza before destroying the evidence, he wasn't all that hungry.

He didn't want to admit it to himself, but he wished Bella would look at _him_ with that small, exasperated smile.

When they were finished eating, Ben praised the meal endlessly. "Those potatoes were amazing Alice!"

"Thanks." Alice laughed as she pushed back her chair and said, "The secret is lots and lots of butter. Not real healthy, but worth it."

"Totally worth it," Ben agreed, pushing his glasses up on his nose. "Do you mind if I step outside for a smoke?"

"I'll go with you." Bella jumped up and heading out the door before anyone else could speak.

Edward looked at Angela in surprise. "She smokes?"

"Let me help you with these Alice." Angela rose to her feet and rolled her eyes at Edward as she began stacking plates. "No, she doesn't. But they're… they're having this - discussion. It's an ongoing debate." She shook her head and laughed. "It's actually sort of embarrassing. They've been arguing about this stuff since junior high. I don't understand any of it. I'm going to have to separate them if they really get going, and then we won't get to stay and play that new game Ben brought. It's out in the car."

Alice watched Edward look longingly at the front door and smiled to herself. "Go outside with them and get that game. You're no help in here."

"Alright." Curious, Edward pushed back from the table and headed for the porch. Through the window he could see Ben laughing, and Bella, who was acting perfectly serious, waving her hands in the air to make a point.

The screen was closed, but the door was opened and Bella's voice carried to Edward as he paused in the foyer. "No Ben! I'm telling you you're wrong! It's fanon!"

Ben chuckled as he said, "It can't be. _You're_ wrong. _Everyone_ knows that Yoda was Qui-Gon's Jedi Master. Ev-er-y-one!"

She was shaking her head while he spoke. "That's what makes it _fanon_ Ben. It's widely accepted by the fandom, but it's not expressly canon. That's the _definition_ of fanon! They never say it's a fact in any of the movies. Not once. It's fanon."

"Ah ha!" Ben flicked his cigarette away, but continued to lean on the porch rail. "So you're operating under the belief that _only_ the movies dictate what's canon and what's not –"

"No, I'm operating under the _truth_ - that only the creations of George Lucas are canon."

Ben was shaking his head as he replied, "There's so much more to the _Star Wars_ universe than what George created. He doesn't know the half of it, and apparently, neither do you."

Bella dropped her arms and leaned against the rail beside Ben, defeated. "I can't win with you."

"You could, if you were being reasonable. But you aren't."

"You're impossible. I don't know how Angela puts up with you," Bella stated with mock sadness, while Ben laughed.

Edward continued to stand in the doorway, unable to believe his ears. _Star Wars?_ This girl with the devastating and mysterious past, who looked so small and delicate, who painted row-boats and mountains at sunrise, and who was the owner of a very impressive little business was getting into a flushed debate over _Star Wars_? Who was this Bella Swan?

He felt compelled to step through the screen-door and find out. "Ben." He pushed open the screen and stepped toward them, wracking his brain for an excuse. "Angela asked me to ask you to get some sort of game out of the car?"

"Oh right!" Ben quickly headed toward the porch steps. "Yeah, sure. I'll be just a minute. You guys are going to love this." Edward waited until he had disappeared behind the house before he looked at Bella.

She was clearly uncomfortable, but in the moonlight it was hard to tell if she was blushing. She was beautiful. The soft blue light of the evening was reflecting off of her face. Her eyes were wide and deep. Edward knew he was staring at her, but couldn't seem to help himself. He was remembering everything he'd learned about her in the last few days, and thinking about how incredible she was. With their eyes locked, he took a step toward her.

Bella watched his eyes on her, and felt the intensity in his gaze. It was the first time she had looked - really looked - at his face. It was beautiful; the moon cast a glow in the green eyes that were watching her so carefully. The sober grimace that she'd seen on his face both times they'd met was gone. The lines between his eyes were smooth, making them seem bigger, more intense. The silence was ringing in her ears. She couldn't seem to pull in enough air to breathe.

"You really have to stop doing that," he said quietly, as he stopped right in front of her.

"Doing what?" She didn't like how her voice was shaking, how her thoughts were tangled in knots.

"Biting your lip like that," he replied softly, and let one hand reach forward to touch the ends of her hair. Her mind went blank.

"Why?" she asked; it was barely a whisper.

"Because," he said as he leaned forward and searched her face, "it makes me want to do this."

His lips rested on hers for one still moment, taking what was left of her breath away. They were unexpectedly soft and warm. The hand that had stroked her hair now came up to cup her face, while his other pressed firmly into the small of her back, so that even if she'd wanted to step away, she couldn't.

His scent clouded her thoughts and made her head spin. She instinctively grasped his arms to keep from losing her balance. His hand moved from her face to the back of her neck, and she felt her skin erupt into flames and goose-bumps.

She sighed against his mouth, and the sound shot straight to his gut. It took all of his self control not to deepen the kiss, but to pull himself back. There was electricity in the air - between them, all around them. They both sucked in deep breaths before he finally summoned the courage to look at her face.

She was visibly trembling, and her lip was caught in her teeth again. Her eyes were downcast, and she was playing with a bracelet on her wrist, afraid to look up at him. She couldn't figure out what had just happened, or why.

Edward needed to see her eyes, so he reached for her chin and forced her eyes up to meet his.

There wasn't the anger he expected, or the regret he feared in her expression. Those emotions, he concluded, were what he felt against himself. He shouldn't have acted purely on instinct. Curiosity and attraction were not enough of an excuse for his behavior. He'd kissed her; out of the blue, completely on a whim, without permission... She didn't know him, or anything about him. He'd barely spoken ten words to her in the three days that they'd known each other; if you could even call it, "known." He'd been brief, even rude, to her the two times they'd met. For all he knew, she was afraid of him. And then, on their third meeting, he'd kissed her without warning and she merely looked bewildered. The deep chocolate eyes that were looking up at him were wide and confused. He hated himself.

He wanted to kiss her again.

"It's called Settler's of Catan." Ben's voice travelled to them from around the corner of the house. The sound of his feet approaching on the gravel shook them from their separate and confusing thoughts. "It's technically a four person game, but I bought an extension set online, so we can all play…" His voice trailed off as he came up the steps and actually looked at them.

"Am I interrupting something?"

Edward didn't know what to say.

"No Ben, I was just telling, uh, Edward that I'm going to have to call it an evening," Bella said, forcing a smile. "I have a lot of new inventory to price tonight, before opening tomorrow, and… um, Renee sent me an e-mail I should answer soon. You know how she is..."

"Right." Ben spoke slowly. "Well, okay then. Um, 'night Bella."

"'Night." She hurried down the steps toward Ben's truck. "Thank your sister for me." Edward noticed that she didn't look directly at him.

"Sure," Edward replied, and then looked at Ben in confusion. "Doesn't she need a ride or something?"

Ben shook his head as an engine roared to life. It wasn't Ben's truck; it was something smaller, concealed from view behind it. "She followed us here on her bike," Ben called over the roar of the engine. "She'll be fine. Let's get this game started." Ben opened the screen and went inside.

Edward couldn't move his feet. Even after the small figure in a black leather jacket, riding a machine that was twice her size, peeled on the gravel and sped out of sight, he stood there.

He didn't know what he felt, but it was big. It was centered somewhere in his chest, and it was weighing him down.

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**A/N: Okay, that was my first kiss scene. I know you're thinking it was, like, nothing, and you're right. But there will be more and bigger kissing scenes to write in this fic in the future and I just need to know if this was a failure or success. Thoughts? Anyone?**


	10. Blending

**A/N: Hey, have you heard of the Indie TwiFic Awards? They're happening right now, and there are only three days left for nominations. I've linked their website on my profile page because I think it's such an awesome idea! Basically it's an award to help recognize the little known in twilight fanfiction. So gather up your favorites and alerts lists, look for the people that don't have a bajillion reviews, and then nominate them for something. It's fun! I would really love to be nominated for this fic, and I'm not too proud to ask for your help... See? I'm only blushing a little bit.**

Edited and reposted 6.23.09 After being beta'd by Irritable Grizzzly. Thank you so much!!!

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**Blending**

~C~

Charlie thought long and hard about what to do with the information he'd gathered regarding Edward Cullen. He decided the best thing was for him to have a talk with George. Surely Edward's boss couldn't know about his past, otherwise George would have asked more questions and kept Charlie, the Sheriff, in the loop. He felt that George had a right to know who was living in his fire house three days a week, and it was his duty to tell him.

The kid's rap sheet was clean, no prior arrests or warrants; nothing more than a couple of speeding tickets. Still, the papers had made their insinuations pretty clear, and Charlie couldn't ignore the troubling circumstances. He had a hunch there were more details that the papers had missed, or purposefully overlooked. Charlie always trusted his hunches, so he made ready to head to the fire station to talk to George.

As he was leaving, his secretary Emily, informed him of a caller on hold.

"Put 'em through to the voice-mail, I'm heading out." He pulled on his hat and grabbed his coat.

"I think you'll probably want to take this." Her voice was soft and apologetic.

"Alright then, patch them through."

He walked over to his desk, picked up the receiver and waited through the familiar beeps. "This is Sheriff Swan."

"Good morning Sheriff, this is Deena with the Washington State Penitentiary."

"What can I do for you Deena?"

"Well, I have some news that I think will interest you on both a personal and professional level, Sheriff Swan. I was looking through Ronald Guild's file this morning and I noted the connection he has with you."

Charlie held his breath as she continued.

"I thought you should be notified that he was killed a few days ago by some of his fellow inmates."

He let the breath out in a long gust. "I understand." He wasn't sure what else to say, or what he felt. "Thank you for the call."

"You're very welcome. Thank you for your time."

He set the phone down and left his office, thankful that the Fire Station was within walking distance. He needed the time to think.

George welcomed him into his office and offered him a cup of coffee.

"What do I owe the pleasure, Sheriff?"

Charlie looked into his cup and wondered where to start.

"Is everything alright?" George's brow was furrowed in concern as he took in Charlie's expression.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, fine. I'm sorry, I'm distracted. I got a call from the Penitentiary right before I came over here. Guild is dead."

George sat back. "No kidding." He scratched his chin. "I don't know how I feel about that."

"Me neither."

"How'd it happen?"

"Inmates killed him."

"How about that," George shook his head. "I guess I wasn't the only one who didn't like the guy."

"I guess not." Charlie forced a smile. "I haven't told Billy or Bella yet. I don't even know if I should tell her. She doesn't ever talk about him. It's like she wants to pretend he doesn't exist."

"And now he doesn't. Wish granted."

Charlie barked out a laugh. "Geez George."

"Sorry." He smiled into his mug. "I don't know why you look so sober, Charlie. I think this is good news."

"I guess. He only had another couple of years left on his sentence. It never seemed like it was long enough." He shifted in his chair, "But that's not why I came by."

George noticed that Charlie's voice had taken on a professional edge. He sat up a little straighter in response.

"How are the new rookies working out for you?"

George frowned in confusion at the unexpected turn of the conversation. "Just fine. Quil's a little green, but that's to be expected. He's eager, and that counts for a lot. Edward is pretty quiet, very down to business… Why do you ask?"

"How much do you know about Cullen?"

George's frown deepened, "Not much. His previous Chief gave him high praise, said he was brave and dedicated, but I don't know much about him on a personal level. What's this about?"

Charlie just nodded toward George's computer. "Google him."

"Say what now?"

"Google him," Charlie repeated.

"Are you kidding?"

"No, type his name in there, along with 'Don and Tanya Denali' and 'Chicago.'"

George scoffed as he turned toward his monitor, but complied. "Is this what you do to all new residents?" he asked, as he waited for the page to load. "Have you ever Googled –" he broke off, "Holy mother of Abraham Lincoln!"

"I know. And no, I only do it to people you give me an odd feeling. Looks like it's justified though, doesn't it?" Charlie came around the desk to look over George's shoulder. "I thought maybe you could read through this and then talk to him. I need to know more details, and I thought it would be better coming from you. If there's any chance that he's brought this sort of trouble along with him, I need to know."

"Right." George's voice held a little shock. "This is terrible."

"It's disturbing, I'll say that."

~B~

She kept waiting for the tingle on the back of her neck to creep up behind her eyes and turn into a full fledged migraine, but it never happened.

Despite the night of sleep she'd lost, the stress she was under… the disbelief she was experiencing, she felt fine - confused maybe - but fine.

Whenever she thought about it, there was a flutter in her stomach. The way his lips had felt, his hands… she felt goose-bumps erupt across her arms and a tingle along her spine.

It didn't make sense. She still didn't know what to think about his behavior. Shouldn't she have been shocked? Shouldn't she have stepped back and slapped him across the face for being so bold?

That's what they always did in the movies.

She didn't know him, or anything about him. He'd never been pleasant to her, or acted interested in her in any way, shape, or form. Shouldn't she have fought back and demanded an explanation?

What did it mean if it had felt right? What did it mean if she admitted to herself that she liked it? That she wanted it to happen again…

The bell above the front door chimed and the sound of morning birds followed Angela inside. "Hey."

"Hey." Bella was sitting on the front counter with a mug beside her. "I made coffee."

"It smells good." Angela shrugged out of her coat and carried it to the back office. "Where are we starting this morning?"

Bella hopped off of the counter, and tried to organize her thoughts. "We have some new figurines to price. I thought we could make room for them next to the outdoor-themed merchandise."

"Sounds good," Angela's voice carried back to her. "Are those the wolves we got in yesterday? They're so awesome!"

"Yeah, the sculptor lives in Portland. He has amazing talent and it's not a bad price." Bella began looking for a way to move a display of bear lamps to make room for the new figurines. She heard Angela walk up behind her.

"You took off fast last night." Angela sat a box of newspaper wrapped wolf figurines between them.

"Mmmhmm." Bella couldn't meet her friend's eye, so she busied herself with unwrapping wolves and handing them to Angela to be labeled.

"Did you feel okay?" Angela knew something was up. Ben had even told her that Bella acted strangely before she bolted off on her bike. And Edward – well, she didn't know him at all, but she felt that he'd been distracted during the game. Alice had even told him to 'wake up and play.' Of course, Bella's behavior might not have had anything to do with Edward's distance.

"Yeah, fine." Bella kept her eyes on her work, but her teeth were digging into her lip, a sure sign of distress.

"Did Ben say something? Did your argument get serious?" Angela was determined to get to the bottom of things. Sure, Bella wasn't a social person by nature, but it wasn't like her to just run off without saying goodbye and thanks to a hostess.

The words were out of Bella's mouth before she could stop them. "He kissed me!"

There was a crash of porcelain wolf meeting hard-wood flooring. Angela's eyes were huge. "Ben? Ben kissed you!"

"No!" Bella shook her head quickly. "No, Edward. Edward kissed me."

"Oh!" Angela sank to her knees and pressed a hand over her heart. "Oh, look what I've done, I'm so sorry Bella." Then her eyes widened again. "Wait, what? Edward! When? How?"

"Last night." Bella couldn't keep still now that the cat was out of the bag. She paced the aisle they were working in. "We were out on the porch, you know, and I was talking to Ben. And then he – Edward – came out and told Ben you wanted him to go to the car and then after he walked off Edward just…" She didn't know how to describe it as she stopped in front of Angela and gestured helplessly. "He just – I don't know – laid one on me."

Angela pressed a hand over her mouth to hold off a disbelieving smile. "Just like that? He didn't say anything? He didn't, like, ask or warn you or anything?"

"No!" Angela's expression was evidence to Bella of just how ridiculous the situation was. "He just marched across to porch and told me to stop chewing my lip, you know? And then he just – gah! I don't_ know_ – he just did it!"

"Huh." Angela was watching her friend carefully. She seemed distressed, excited, maybe a little embarrassed, but not altogether displeased with the situation. Angela had a sneaking suspicion that Bella had enjoyed it, and Angela thought she might even have needed it. How long had it been since Bella had had a good kiss?

"Huh?" Bella stopped pacing long enough to turn around and face Angela. "Some strange, like, completely random guy just marches over - out of the blue - to make out with me and all you can say is 'Huh'?"

"Well," She casually began using a roll of newspaper to sweep some of the porcelain shards into a pile. "How was it?"

"How was it?" Bella got down on her knees next to her friend so she could look her in the eyes. "How was it? Are you kidding? I'm freaking out! I don't know how it was! I don't know what happened! I am fr-eak-ing _out_!"

Angela laughed it off. "Calm down. We'll talk through this. Okay, first; was it, like, a peck? A kiss goodnight? Or was it like, you know, na na nah nah na na."

Bella closed her eyes in denial. "Please tell me you did not just hum to intro to _Bad to the Bone_."

"Well, it seems appropriate. So?"

"I guess it was like a kiss goodnight, sort of. Oh, I don't know, I don't date. What's a kiss goodnight like?"

"Three minutes or less. No tongue."

"Okay, then yeah."

"Where were his hands?"

"Angela!"

"Oh!... Really?"

"No! Geez!" Bella felt herself blushing. "One was, like, around my waist, and the other…" the back of her neck tingled as she remembered. "One hand was behind my head, like, on my neck."

"On top of the hair, or underneath?"

"Beneath."

"Oh crap!"

"What? _What_?"

"He wants you."

"No he doesn't."

"Yes. Yes he does. Lauren Mallory doesn't have a chance."

"Stop it."

"Did you kiss him back?" Angela rose to her feet excitedly and pulled Bella up with her.

Bella looked so sheepish and ashamed that Angela burst out laughing. "You did! You kissed him back!"

"I didn't mean to." Bella shook her head and stepped away. "What else was I supposed to do? It caught me off guard. It was, like, a knee-jerk reaction."

"Where were your hands?"

"On his shoulders I think?" Bella didn't know if her face could feel like it was burning any hotter.

"Hmmm." Angela tapped her chin. "I think _you_ liked it."

"What? No." Bella was shaking her head, trying not to smile.

"You did, you liked it."

"Okay," she couldn't help it, "maybe a little. But it's weird. Isn't it weird? I mean, who does that?"

"Edward Cullen does that and likes it."

Bella rolled her eyes. "I don't know why I told you."

"Because you wanted to brag about your hot kiss to someone who spent the evening getting schooled by her husband in Settler's of Catan." Angela went the get the broom from behind the counter. "And because I'm your best friend and you have to tell me these things. It's in the contract."

~E~

He stormed out of George's office, seeing red.

What right did they have to dig into his business? What right did they have to bring up something that he'd – quite obviously – travelled two thousand miles to forget? Who did Charlie Swan think he was?

If he had questions he should have had the decency to ask, man to man, without bringing his boss into it. Of course, he wouldn't have questions in the first place if he hadn't been digging into what was none of his business.

Who else had Charlie blabbed to? How many other people were going to be looking at him with those suspicious eyes? What did it take to be left alone?

He cursed loudly and hit the steering wheel when he remembered that Charlie was Bella's father. It was just one more thing…

He pulled up to City Hall and got out of his Volvo. He marched into the reception area and demanded to speak to the Sheriff.

"I'm sorry sir, but Chief Swan is on a conference call with –"

"I don't care if he's talking to the _President_," Edward spat the words and leaned over the poor girl's desk. "You get him off the phone and tell him I want to talk to him. Now!"

"I'm going to have to ask you to calm down."

Edward laughed dryly. "Oh well since you asked nicely." He turned around looking for a marked door, any clue as to where the Sheriff was hiding. Edward intended to give him a piece of his mind. A part of him warned him to go home and calm down; the bigger part of him was ready for a fight.

Charlie, hearing the ruckus, had promised to call the Mayor back and stood in his doorway to observe the scene. He watched Edward's eyes focus on him from across the room and narrow.

"Who do you think you are?" Edward came face to face with him in three long strides, fire in his eyes and venom in his voice.

"Why don't you step inside so we can talk in private."

Edward laughed darkly. "In private? Oh, so _now_ you're worried about privacy? Where was that concern when you started digging into my business? Who gave you the right to do that?"

"I have a right to know who's living in my town."

Edward's hand shot out. For one shocked second Charlie thought Edward was going to hit him, but instead his open hand stopped, extended between them. Charlie knew better than to take it.

"Edward Cullen, twenty-six years old, son of Carlisle and Esme Cullen. Born and raised in Chicago with my two siblings, graduated on the honor roll before applying to become a fire fighter. I'm six foot one, a hundred and seventy-two pounds. If there's anything else you need to know you're welcome to ask me. _Privately._ Man to man."

Charlie opened his office door wider and stepped back to let Edward in. The kid was breathing heavy, the veins on his neck as he pushed by were popping out. He was more that a little frustrated. Charlie regretted the mistake he'd made in bringing George into it.

"Sit down," he told him, and he sunk into his office chair behind the desk.

"I'll stand." He shoved his hands in his pockets and didn't move from just inside the doorway.

"Fine. I'm sorry about the way I went about this," Charlie began, looking him squarely in the eye. "I should have come to you first. I just thought it would be better coming from your superior, someone you were possibly more comfortable with. I didn't want to put you on the spot. I know you've been through a lot." He paused to give Edward a chance to speak, but he just snorted. "I can see now that I shouldn't have brought anyone else into it. This is obviously a sensitive matter, and I just want to say I'm sorry, and I know how to be discreet."

Again Edward didn't speak.

"So I'll get right to the point Edward. There's really only one thing I need to know." Edward's eyes were unblinking as he waited for Charlie to continue. "Did you do it?"

"You obviously researched the case enough. Didn't you read his confession?"

"Yes I did, and I also read about the surrounding circumstances." Charlie leaned forward. "Man to man Edward. That's how you want it. I need a straight answer."

Edward deliberately took his hands from his pockets and walked toward the desk. His eyes were steady and his tone was even. "No, I didn't do it."

Charlie nodded, satisfied. "I believe you."

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**A/N: I know you're ready to know what Edward's past is, and I'm dying to tell you. You're going to find out soon, but I want you to find out with Bella. I think it will be better that way, so just wait a little longer, k?**

**Also, some people thought Bella's reaction in the last chapter was a little... off? I'm hoping this helped clear up what she was feeling.**

**And thanks for the reviews for the last chapter, they were very helpful and lovely and enlightening. You guys really do rule. 3 3 3 **


	11. Rags

**A/N: First of all, thank you to anyone and everyone who nominated any of my fics for an Indie TwiFic Award. You're all awesome.**

**Second, thanks Irritable Grizzzly for her support of this story. Thanks for beta'ing, and pimping me in your story notes. v cool.**

**I also have this story posted over on twilighted, and it's getting a little behind. I'm still waiting for chapter ten to validate over there. I think after this chapter, I'm going to wait to post more here until twilighted catches up. I'm afraid if we get too far ahead I'll get confused and overwhelmed. I like to keep them updating together. So there will probably be a little bit of a break before the next update. You don't mind, do you?**

**Oh, and have I ever pointed out that I don't own Twilight? Because I don't. Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended. Whew, I'm glad I got that off my chest.**

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**Rags**

~J~

We laughed together as we prepared the accelerants – the oily rags and strips of bed-sheet we would use to control the fire. The sheets we used were special. They had belonged to _Him_. _His_ head had lain on this pillow case as he was making plans for a better life for us. _His_ body had rested here. These sheets were special. They still smelled like Him.

We found the irony hilarious. We had been planning this for weeks. We didn't need to frame anyone. We wouldn't be leaving any traces behind. Anyone with a motive could be blamed for this, anyone who had been wronged here. And there were plenty of them, because 'justice' falls into the same category as Santa Clause, Happily Ever After, and the Tooth Fairy. It's in the category of Things That Don't Exist.

It was hard for me to sit in the car like I'd been told and keep a look out. It was hard not to dance on the sidewalk at the scene he'd caused. His face was angry and his voice was loud. It carried through the window and made me smile. It would be his fault now. No one would be looking for us.

And we weren't even going to hurt anyone. Yet.

~E~

"When are you going back to Chicago?" Edward grudgingly broke the silence before Alice's pouting lip could have a chance to sag all the way to the floor. He realized too late that his choice of words was only going to make things worse.

"Are you that anxious to be rid of me?" Her voice was resentful as she put another bite of spaghetti into her sad mouth.

"No, of course not." He realized he was only feigning an appetite, and pushed his plate away. "I appreciate you coming here with me." He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, "And for, you know, everything you've done."

"Holy cow Edward," her face transformed into a smile at his discomfort, but she knew he was being sincere. "You really shouldn't gush over me like this, I'm blushing."

He rolled his eyes at her. "I'm just thinking that Jasper is probably about to send the Cavalry out here to drag you back to Chicago, and I'm sure the rest of them miss you too. I'm just saying you don't have to stay, if you don't want to."

"In that case," She jumped to her feet and pretended to rush toward the stairs. "I'm packing my bags right now. I'm free!"

Then she turned on her heels and came back toward him. "Listen, little brother," she bent down so that they were eye to eye. "I'm here because I want to be here, and I'll go home when I'm ready. I don't need you to give me permission, or let me off the hook, or to feel guilty because you have some misguided notion that I'm here because I feel obligated to be. I'm having a good time, I'm meeting some nice people, and Jasper is going to survive." She patted his cheek to make her point clear before she picked up his plate. "Alright?"

"Alright."

"This house is just as much mine as it is yours. Grandma left it to all three of us."

"I know." Now he felt like crap. Actually, when he thought about it, he'd been feeling like crap ever since he left Fork's City Hall that afternoon. No, that wasn't right either. He guessed he'd been feeling like crap ever since he'd planted that uninvited kiss on Bella Swan. He'd seen her through her shop window that day. She'd looked good, which only made him feel worse. He decided he had a low 'feeling like crap' tolerance.

"Speaking of 'the three of us,'" Alice interrupted his thoughts as she wandered over to unload their dishes into the sink. "I wonder how long it's going to take Emmett to get curious about what we're doing out here and to come check it out."

"He'll never leave Chicago without Rosalie," Edward pointed out. Making a conscious effort to cheer up, he walked over to the sink to help her with the cleaning.. She did all the cooking, after all.

"Maybe he'll convince her to come and visit."

Edward laughed, "Right. The day Emmett gets Rosalie to come out here is the day that I –" The phone rang and Alice didn't get to hear the rest.

"Edward Cullen, please." The voice on the other end was urgent. She handed him the receiver.

"Hello?"

"Edward? It's Quil. We need you down here right away. There's a big fire at City Hall. George said to call you in. We're calling Port Angeles too." His voice held all the fear and excitement of a rookie fire-fighter about to face his first real flame.

"Alright, I'll be right there. Twenty minutes."

"Okay. Hurry." Then there was a click.

"Fire?" Alice read his expression as he deliberately hung up the phone.

"Yeah, at City Hall. Sounds like a big one."

"Be careful."

He was loading his wallet and keys into his pockets. He looked up and smiled, a familiar glint of excitement in his eyes. "Always."

She bit back her fear as she watched him walk to the front door. He knew what he was doing, she told herself. He would be fine.

~B~

She thought she heard sirens over the rush of the showerhead as she rinsed the strawberry scent from her hair. She switched off the water and stepped out, wrapping a towel around herself as she listened to the whine of the siren as it faded away.

Sirens at any hour were one of the hazards of living next door to the fire station.

She dressed in sweats and let her hair air dry. She had the evening to herself and she wanted to spend it painting. She'd been busy with the shop lately and hadn't gotten a chance to satiate her craving for oils and brushes. Sometimes it was worse than craving chocolate. It wasn't always that she _wanted_ to paint; it was that she _needed_ to.

She pushed her feet into her slippers and headed into the living room where her art supplies lived. She never put them away.

She heard a second siren in the distance and frowned as she began squeezing paint onto her palette. She organized them in a half circle, like a rainbow,leaving enough room on the palette below them to mix the other colors she would need.

As she reached for her palette knife to begin mixing, she heard a third siren. It was a rarity to hear sirens at all in a town as small as Forks. Concerned, she went to the window and gazed into the evening.

The blaze must have been four or five blocks away, but it was big enough to light up the sky above it and to be visible from Bella's upstairs apartment. She mentally calculated which buildings occupied those blocks and felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. City Hall was there. Charlie was there.

She didn't even put on shoes or lock the door on the way out.

~E~

He arrived to find the scene in chaos. Half the town had to be kept back by one of the three police officers in order to keep everyone safe. They gathered on the sidewalks, their faces reflecting the flickering orange light in mixtures of horror and awe. Edward could understand the fascination. Nothing was as powerful, in action, as fire.

No one was thought to be inside the building, which was lucky. The place looked ready to collapse and Edward had a hard time imagining what a search and rescue mission would have been like. All three floors were completely engulfed. Fortunately, their only job was to put out the fire before it spread.

He spotted George and was heading over to receive his orders when he saw her.

She looked every bit as terrified and vulnerable as she had the first night he'd met her. Her eyes were wide with panic as she pushed through the people on the sidelines. She was past the officer, who was too busy telling a couple of fourteen year old boys to step back – again - in an instant.

She wasn't going to see him as she hurried past him, her eyes focused on the front doors, desperation written all over her face.

"Woah!" He grabbed her around the waist before she could get past the perimeter they'd set up. "Hold it! Where do you think you're going?"

He was surprised to find that she was trembling from head to toe. She fought against him blindly and she seemed capable of gasping out only one word. "Charlie. Charlie."

"You aren't going in there. Cut it out." He tightened his hold on her and turned her around to look him in the eye. She was ghostly pale. He felt a fist close around his gut. "Breathe Bella. Relax." He found himself wanting to pull her in and hold her. It was the same urge he had all along. He fought it back. "Your dad is fine. He's around here somewhere. Come on, breathe."

She relaxed fractionally, but continued shaking and her breath came in sharp gasps. He was afraid that if he let go of her, she would collapse.

"What's going on?" Charlie's voice carried to them and Edward turned around to find the Sheriff rushing toward them. "Bella! What's wrong? Are you alright?"

"Dad!" The relief was evident in her voice as she threw herself at him. Edward stepped back.

"I think she thought you were in there." Edward spoke for her, because she seemed to be having trouble getting enough air to speak for herself.

Charlie held her close for a moment and then held her back by the shoulders so that he could look at her. "I'm fine kiddo." He took in her appearance. "Did you _run_ all the way here?"

She nodded miserably, holding a hand to her heart and trying to regain her composure. Through the adrenaline, she was begin to realize a couple of things. Oddly, the first thing that passed through her mind, once her mind was set at ease, was that Edward Cullen wasn't seeing her at her best. The second thing she realized was that her foot hurt.

At the same time, Edward was noticing that she'd forgotten her shoes. One foot was clad in a pink slipper and the other one was bare. He walked forward to investigate. A burgundy stain that was spreading beneath her bare foot.

"You're bleeding," he said in a voice filled with awe and tinged with anger.

"Don't!" Charlie opened his mouth to stop Edward's words, but it was too late, she had already looked. "… point that out," he finished lamely, as Bella's head lolled to the side and her eyes rolled back. Charlie held her weight and lowered her carefully to the ground.

"She faints at the sight of blood," Charlie explained, as Edward rushed forward. Charlie held her head in his lap and waved over a paramedic who was standing by.

"Is she alright?" Edward knew how worried he sounded, but was too anxious to care.

"She'll be fine." Charlie sounded confident, but looked a little shaken. "Crazy girl." He brushed a strand of hair from her pale cheek.

Edward looked at her foot and discovered a large cut across her heel and various other smaller cuts filled with glass.

"Cullen!" George's voice carried over the roar of flame and the hissing of half a dozen hoses.

"I've got to help." Edward sounded regretful. "You're sure she'll be okay?" He was still leaning over her; his eyes were intense as they looked into Charlie's.

"Yeah," Charlie nodded, and remembered the scene in his office earlier that afternoon. A couple of things were occurring to him. "Look me up in the morning. We need to talk."

"I will." Edward jumped to his feet and ran toward George and a back-up fire truck that was just coming in from Port Angeles.

It was the first time he'd ever had trouble putting everything else out of his mind while he fought a fire.

No, he reminded himself. It was the second time.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, writing a mystery is really fun, but I need to be in your heads. What do you think is going on?**


	12. Background

**Ba**c**kground**

~C~

The kid looked like he hadn't gotten much sleep the night before. His eyes were blood-shot, his hair was a mess, and he was still in the same rumpled clothes he'd had on the night before. He smelled like smoke.

"That was some fire." Charlie poured himself a cup of coffee and held the pot up questioningly at Edward.

"No thanks." Edward put his hands in his pockets and looked around George's office. "So you're setting up camp here?"

"For now." Charlie walked around the desk and sat down. "That building was a lot of things for this town; Courtroom, Police Station, City Works, City Hall… It's going to take a lot of adjusting, but the city has to run. Now the fire station is doubling as the police station - you don't mind, do you?"

"No." Edward took another tentative step inside. "Why would I?"

Charlie shrugged. "I can't read you Cullen. Sometimes I get the feeling you hate my guts."

Edward cracked a smile, the first one he'd ever given Charlie. "I don't hate your guts. I just have a slight problem with law enforcement in general, based on my history. You understand."

Charlie smiled dryly, "I do. And since you already have a problem with me, I might as well ask: Where were you yesterday evening?"

Edward's smile faded. "You're asking me?"

Charlie nodded. "You were pretty riled up in my office yesterday. I think I have a right to ask, being Chief of Police and all."

"I was home with my sister. She can vouch for me." He felt the tips of his ears turning red, a sign that his temper was about to become a problem.

"I'm not accusing you." Charlie saw Edward's eyes flash.

"That's what it sounds like."

"I'm going to be asking everyone. It's my job."

"Is that all? Is that why you wanted to see me?"

"Yeah, you can go. Get cleaned up, take a nap. You boys earned it. That was quite a blaze."

_I've seen worse_, Edward thought, but he said, "How's Bella? How's her foot? Is she alright?"

Charlie studied him. His voice was anxious, his eyes worried – overly worried for a guy who didn't really know his daughter. "She'll be alright. She's home today, resting up."

"Okay." Edward breathed out a sigh of relief. "I'll see you around Sheriff."

"Wait. Edward?"

He stopped in the door way and turned around, eyebrows raised.

"I've been thinking about it, and I'm going to need to hear your story first-hand …" He saw Edward's eyes narrow and Charlie put his hand up to stop him from speaking.

"Now I know I said it wasn't any of my business, and it isn't, as long as your troubles stay in your past."

Edward was motionless in the doorway. Only the flush around his ears and neck gave Charlie an indication that his words were impacting him. When he spoke, he kept his voice even. "You think my past has something to do with last night's fire?"

"The fire was suspicious Edward. You know that. You know the patterns and the signs. It was clearly arson. The investigation is just beginning. I have no leads, but you show up in town and within the week we have one – no two – unexplained fires."

"I thought you said you believed me before when I told you I didn't do it."

"I do believe you, but I'm not convinced that this guy isn't out there waiting for his chance at revenge. I plan to keep these thoughts to myself, alright? I'm not accusing you. You understand that?"

Edward nodded, jaw tight.

"I'd like us to work together. I'm going to ask you to do me a favor. Get in touch with whoever it is who's supposed to be keeping tabs on this James guy. Find out where he's been, what he's been up to, and let me know. If you don't want to do it, I will. It will put my mind at ease."

Edward nodded again. "I can do that."

"I'm not trying to make your life miserable." Charlie rose from the desk and walked toward Edward's rigid form. "I feel like we've gotten off on the wrong foot. Can you understand my suspicions? Can you understand why I need the whole story?"

Charlie watched the muscles in Edward's jaw tense, as though he was fighting the urge to open his mouth. Finally he nodded. "I understand." He ran a hand through his hair. "I can tell you, but I don't think it'll do any good. James couldn't have gotten to me this fast."

"From what I've read, he's a slick one."

Edward shook his head. "Not that slick."

"We'll see." Charlie looked up at the clock. "You had anything to eat recently?"

"No."

"Let's go down to the diner and talk. Breakfast is on me. Then you can go home and put your feet up."

Edward shrugged and followed the Sheriff out. He was dreading the upcoming conversation. The thing he hated most in the world was reliving that day, but he figured this was the only way to get the Sheriff off his back. If this is what it took to wipe the slate clean, to really start over, he was game for it. He was almost sure.

~*~

Jessica Stanley had worked in her father's diner since she was old enough to call, "Order up!"

She loathed the place; the grease, the noise, the same faces day after day, the flirtatious old men, the picky old women, even the insanely cheesy name; Knives & Spoons. Who thought that was clever besides her father? No one. The only time it made sense was when it was written down in address form. Knives & Spoons, located in Forks. It was ridiculous.

Her goal in life was to get out of that wet little town full of boring ordinary people. As soon as she had enough money saved she was going to get an apartment in Seattle and a job waitressing for a bigger and better restaurant, a real one. Then she could make money faster and maybe even save up enough to move to out to LA. Maybe even to New York City, where life would be fast-paced and exciting. She couldn't wait to get out of Forks. She would do anything to get out.

The only thing she liked about her job - her life - was the gossip. She lived for it. She thrived on it.

And today she had a nice little nugget that was sure to turn the town upside down.

She went down the bar, refilling coffees, and listening to the regulars talking about the fire. She smiled.

"What's that smirk for?" Her best friend Lauren sat at the end off the bar, picking apart a muffin and trying to figure out what it would take to get Edward Cullen's attention. A shorter skirt? Should she re-color her hair? Something lighter?

"No reason." Jessica leaned on the counter and went back to her own muffin, pretending to be on a break.

"Oh come on. I know that look." Lauren leaned forward. "You know something."

Jessica shrugged and looked up to the ceiling, still smiling. "Maybe."

"Tell me. What is it?!" The glint in her friend's eye was unmistakable.

She couldn't hold back anymore. "Alright." They leaned toward each other and Jessica cupped her hand around Lauren's ear. "I know who started the fire."

Lauren leaned back in surprise. "What?" She spoke loud enough that conversation around them stopped. "You know what?"

Jessica pretended to be appalled, but secretly reveled in the attention. "Hush." Then she staged whispered. "I know who started the fire."

Old Mr. Martin, who was sitting a couple of stools to their right leaned toward them, his eyebrows raised. The other customers in near-by chairs were doing the same, straining their ears to eavesdrop.

"Who?" Lauren's muffin was forgotten, her eyes were wide.

"Edward Cullen." She said is name slowly and deliberately to make sure those who wanted to overhear them, heard correctly.

Murmurs broke out around the room. Rumor started. Mission complete. Jessica's smile grew.

"No!" Lauren shook her head, looking aghast and delighted at the same time. "How do you know?"

"Well, I was walking in for my shift yesterday, and I passed City Hall. The sun was out – for once – so all of the windows were open a little. I heard a bunch of shouting, so I stopped to look. And there was Edward Cullen, all up in Sheriff Swan's face, going on and on about how the Sheriff doesn't respect his privacy and shouldn't be digging into his business. He was freaking out. I mean, he was, like, furious."

"So?" Lauren frowned. "That doesn't mean he started the fire." Part of Lauren wanted to believe Jessica's story. How exciting! Edward Cullen was a bad boy with a dark side, and she loved bad boys. On the other hand, she would have a hard time seducing him if it was true, and he was sent to prison.

"Well no, you're right." Jessica nodded, but smirked.

"There's more, isn't there?"

Jessica nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah. Well, I got curious you know? I wanted to find out what his past was all about. What he was freaking out about, you know? What he was hiding. So I did a little research." She paused for effect and wiped a crumb from the counter.

"And?"

"And Edward Cullen killed some people in a fire when he was a teenager." She was almost too giddy to get the words out. A murderer in their midst, and she was the first to know.

"No way!"

Jessica nodded. "Yeah, but before it could go to trial, his dad – who's apparently like an insanely rich surgeon or something – paid off the brother in the family and he confessed to the whole thing. He said that it was all his doing, and that he framed Edward and everything. Apparently they were really poor and needed the money, because his dad died in the fire, and his mom was sick.

"Anyway, nobody believed the guy, but they couldn't really do anything because he _confessed_. So Edward went free, even though everyone was like, totally convinced that he was guilty."

Lauren was shocked. "But why would Edward do that? Why would he start a fire like that?"

"He was dating the girl who was killed." Jessica said it like it should have been obvious. "It was a crime of passion. She probably cheated on him or something."

"I don't believe it." Lauren sat back in her chair and shook her head.

"It's true." Jessica took a big bit of muffin and spoke through it. "It's too bad. He's incredibly hot, even when he's mad."

"So you think he started the fire because he's mad at the Sheriff?"

"Absolutely." Jessica picked up her plate and topped off Lauren's coffee. "I heard everything through the window. He was furious, and he looked, I don't know, _dangerous_. He had to have done it. He - "

Suddenly her eyes focused on the door, and her voice dropped. In fact, the whole room went silent. Lauren turned around just as Jessica whispered, "Well speak of the devil. I have to get back to work." She picked up their things and disappeared into the kitchen.

Lauren continued to stare shamelessly at the two people in the doorway. Sheriff Swan was standing next to a grim-looking Edward Cullen. They both seemed to sense the tension in the room caused by Jessica sharing her theories.

"Morning, everyone," Charlie finally spoke as he led Edward to a booth in the corner. "That was some firework show last night huh?" He was looking at Old Mr. Martin, but seemed to be addressing the whole room.

"Yes sir," Mr. Martin replied, "haven't seen a show like that in all my years."

Another voice broke in. "Any leads on what caused it Sheriff?" Beth Cope's eyes were trained on Edward, looking speculative.

"No, ma'am. It's early yet though. Don't you worry. We'll get it sorted out."

"I'm sure you will," Mr. Newton agreed from across the room.

Edward was quick to recognize the familiar tension in the air. He was accustomed to the suspicious stares and murmurs. He wasn't a stranger to speculation in their eyes. He hunched his shoulders as he slid into a booth with Charlie and glared back at them darkly.

Somehow, already, they all knew.


	13. Foreground

**A/N: Hey! I missed you guys! There was a minor tragedy involving my laptop, a glass of water, and my son, which resulted in me not being able to type for _weeks_. It was torture! I didn't have any idea how addicted to the computer I was until I could use it anymore. I almost died. But now I have a usb keyboard and all is right with the world.**

**I know there were a couple of things I was also going to say, but it's been so long since the last update that I've forgotten. Sorry. Oh, I remember! THANK YOU for the reviews! I hardly ever reply, but I love all of you. If there's ever anything you want me to clarify, or explain, let me know. I'll try, as long as it doesn't give any of the plot away. I'm stingy with my plot. :)**

**Thanks to my beta, the lovely Irritable Grizzzly, who is stingy with the characters. But it's a good thing for me. If she hadn't been, in Edward's words, this chapter would have been "utter crap."**

**That's all.**

* * *

**Foreground**

~E~

Charlie sat in the diner and listened silently as Edward relived his past simply and honestly. They sat in a far corner booth where no one bothered them, except the bright-eyed waitress who came to refill their coffee mugs far more often than was necessary.

"Jessica Stanley," Charlie murmured as she walked away for the fifth time. "I would steer clear of that girl if I were you. Bella calls her Gossip Queen of the Universe, or, she did when she was in High School."

"How is Bella?" Edward took the opportunity to ask. He'd been worried about her all night.

"She'll be fine. It's a pretty nasty cut. It required several stitches. They told her to stay off her feet for a few days and she'll be good as new." Charlie watched Edward carefully as the conversation turned to his daughter. Edward seemed far more concerned than the average stranger should be. He felt his "Dad Instinct" kicking in.

"That's good."

"Is there something going on between you and my daughter?" Charlie was straight-forward enough to ask.

Edward choked on his coffee and stared at Charlie in horrified surprise.

Charlie put a hand up and chuckled at Edward's reaction. "Never-mind. It's none of my business."

Edward continued to stare at him, speechless. There was definitely something to be said for the sheriff's instincts. "No – I mean – last night… I've just never seen anyone react like that. I guess – to be honest – she's been on my mind."

Charlie appreciated Edward being straight with him. He smiled, "Bella's very… uhhh…spontaneous. She reacts without thinking sometimes, but her heart's always in the right place. That kid's a fighter. I don't know if you know this, but – "

"George told me." Edward interrupted. "He told me about the wreck and the friend she lost and her injuries."

Charlie stared into his coffee mug. "Yeah, well, we had a pretty rough time that year, but Bella came back to me. Like I said, she's a fighter. I wish I knew where she got that kind of strength."

Edward met Charlie's eyes and said simply, "I can guess."

Charlie looked down again quickly to hide his embarrassment and nodded. There was a slightly awkward pause which Charlie was the first to fill. "One of the first things she said to me, after her hearing came back," Charlie looked up, but stared sideways out the window, remembering, "I told her I was sorry about Jake, and you know what she said back?"

Edward shook his head.

Charlie turned back to him with half a smile, "She said, 'It's like Jake always said Dad, life sucks and then you die.'" Charlie chuckled. "That's when I knew she'd be okay."

"She's strong." Edward agreed, wondering how in the world he ended up having a deep conversation about Bella with her own father.

"She is." Charlie picked up his mug. "And she's a good listener. She sees through the crap, and she's a loyal friend."

"You think I should tell her what I just told you." It wasn't a question.

"I'm saying that if you want to stick around this town, it's going to be tough. You're the new guy, and there's a good chance you brought this trouble with you. Not on purpose, of course," he added when Edward opened his mouth to defend himself, "I'm just saying that if you plan to stick around, Bella's a good one to have on your side. Plus she's lonely, stuck up in her room, she could probably use to company."

It was Edward's turn to stare into his mug.

"There's one more thing, before we go." Charlie suddenly turned sheriff-like. "I do need you to keep track of this James character. If you don't, I will."

Edward nodded grudgingly. "If you insist."

"I do."

"My brother's a cop with Chicago PD. I'll put a call in to him, but I'm sure he'll tell me that James is checking in regularly with his parole officer and being a model citizen of Illinois."

"Never hurts to be sure, and once I cross him off my suspect list, I can move on to the real investigation. Fires like the one at City Hall just don't happen in Forks."

Edward left the diner and headed home. Alice had left him a note that she was out shopping. Typical.

He took a shower and felt a little more human once the smoke from the night's fire was out of his hair. With a towel wrapped tightly around his waist, he went downstairs in search of his phone. He left Emmett a brief voicemail, asking him to return his call and trying to sound casual. Then he went upstairs and fell into bed, determined to get at least six hours of sleep in before his next shift. The problem was that he couldn't get his conversation with Charlie about his daughter out of his head. He couldn't get Charlie's daughter out of his head period. The kiss.... Maybe he would take Charlie's advice and just talk to Bella. Maybe it was a good idea. He could just stop by on his way to the station that evening. He could say that he was checking on her after the events of last night. If it seemed appropriate, he could talk to her about the kiss, about his past… Should he bring her flowers?

He groaned and turned over in his bed. It was too light outside to sleep. He was being ridiculous. He couldn't think clearly when he was this exhausted. He was only beginning to talk himself out of the whole idea, when he drifted off to sleep.

His cell phone woke him up before the alarm did. He reached over to see if it was worth waking all the way up to take the call. It was Emmett.

"'ello?" his voice came out like a frog.

"Dude, what's the matter with you?"

"Sleeping." He cleared his throat and sat up, running his hand through his hair and leaning back on the headboard.

"It's three in the afternoon there, what are you doing asleep?"

"There was a fire last night, I earned it."

Emmett laughed, "Alright. So, what's up?"

Edward wasn't sure how to broach the subject. "There've been a few suspicious fires around here lately… and, well, the sheriff found out what happened with James and he has this hunch that James might have something to do with all of this. I don't think so, but he asked me to check into it."

"Hold on," Emmett's voice rose an octave, "What?"

"Don't make it a big deal," Edward practically growled at his brother. "Like I said, it's nothing. James couldn't have gotten out of Chicago, and even if he could, he wouldn't have gotten to me this quick… and the fires haven't even really been focused on me."

When Emmett spoke again, Edward heard him fall into police-officer-mode. "Where have the fires been?"

"There've only been two." Edward did his best to down-play the whole thing. "One at the sheriff's house, his tool shed actually, and one at the City Hall building."

Emmett was vaguely familiar with the workings of small towns, having worked with Sheriffs in cases outside of Chicago. He had a hunch. "Did that building by chance host a courtroom?"

Edward knew where he was going. "Don't be absurd."

"I distinctly remember the end of a trial, when a certain person was sentenced in an arson case and swore on his dead father's grave that the first thing he would do when he got out was burn the judge, jury, and courtroom to the ground."

"I distinctly remember that happened back in Chicago, not in Forks." Edward was annoyed. "Listen, just contact his parole officer and find out where he is, okay?"

"Sure." Emmett was worried, but could tell Edward was upset, and decided not to grill him. Yet.

"And don't tell mom."

"Of course not, she'd only worry."

"Thanks."

"Sure. So how's life out West?"

"Wet. Small. Slow. How's the family?"

"Mom and Dad are good. They miss you guys. Rosalie just won another case, so she's happy… is Alice driving you as crazy as Jasper is driving me?"

Edward chuckled. "I doubt it. She's having a good time. I've been working a lot and she's been shopping and redecorating this place. She's made some new friends."

"I promise if he keeps whining to me about how much he misses my little sister, I'm going to kill him."

Edward laughed. "I'll warn Alice."

"Send her home. Please."

Edward just laughed again. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed his family until he heard his brother mention the word, 'home.' He couldn't go back, he reminded himself. This was home now, for as long as he could stand it, and then he'd keep moving.

"Sorry man, Rose has people meeting us for dinner, and if I don't get off the phone she's going to use her freakish strength to drag me upstairs and into a tie."

"Alright, just let me know about James."

"Will do. Take it easy."

"You too."

There was a click at the other end and Edward closed the phone. He fell back onto his pillow, but couldn't go back to sleep.

He needed to talk to someone. He needed a friend. He needed to see Bella Swan.

~B~

Angela stood in the bedroom doorway with her hands on her hips. "…and you'll be sure to call me if you need anything?"

Bella, with her foot propped up on a pile of pillows and surrounded by snacks, drinks, and an impressive display of flowers, rolled her eyes. "I'll be fine," she insisted with a half laugh. "Between you, and Dad, and Mike Newton, I shouldn't want for anything."

Angela looked pointedly at the flowers and said, "I think someone has a crush on you… since High School."

"No." Bella shook her head. "He's doing some work for me. He was just being nice."

"Whatever." Angela leaned off the door-jam and made ready to leave. "I'll lock up downstairs on my way out. Call if you need me."

"I will. Thanks for covering for me today. Someday I'll stop being clumsy…"

Angela laughed, "No you won't. I'm just glad your Dad's okay and no one got hurt."

"Yeah, me too."

Angela watched Bella's face change and frowned. "What is it?"

"Oh nothing," Bella tried to clear her expression, "It's just… these last couple of fires are bothering me."

"Yeah, they're strange." Angela's frown deepened, "but you don't think someone is after Charlie do you?"

"No, I mean, I don't know… who would do that? And why?"

"Hey don't worry about it. They're going to find out who did it and everything's going to be fine."

"Yeah," Bella nodded and then looked at her bedside clock. "Hey it's late. Get out of here or else Ben's going to think I kidnapped you."

"Alright. Take it easy and I'll see you in the morning."

"Thanks Ang."

Angela took her time shutting down the computer in the back office and arranging the inventory and displays for the next day before flipping off the lights. She walked through the dark shop toward the streetlights that shone through the front window and fought back a scream when she caught sight of a dark figure moving past the window in the front door.

She sighed in relief and placed a shaking hand over her heart when she identified the figure as Edward Cullen. She stepped forward to let him in, but then paused when she realized he hadn't seen her, and she watched curiously to see what he was doing.

He was holding a bouquet of flowers and pacing the sidewalk. He would take two steps toward the door, pause, look at the upstairs windows, run a hand through his hair, shake his head, and then begin pacing again. Angela smiled at his indecision and hoped he would work up the courage to knock.

Instead, after a few moments, he looked disgusted with himself, tossed the flowers into a nearby trash can and continued up the sidewalk toward the fire station.

Angela waited a few moments, to make sure he was out of sight before letting herself out. She felt a little guilty for walking over to snoop in the trash can, but couldn't help herself. They were roses! Yellow and white and wrapped in pink tissue paper. Angela heard herself squeal and laughed. She snatched them up and fumbled for the keys to let herself back inside. Bella had to see this!

A few minutes later a trembling hand reached into the same trash can and picked up a card. Narrowed eyes read it over three times and the hands trembled in anger. He put it into the breast pocket of his coat carefully before scooping up a couple of petals and adding them to the pocket. He sauntered away into the night, but not before casting a menacing glare to the windows above.

~J~

Their dad always said that people who meddled in other people's affairs were the worst kinds of creatures. He said they should be severely punished.

And they _always_ obeyed Him.


	14. Sketch

**A/N: Finally! Finally this story is ready to take off. I hope you enjoy the ride.**

**Thanks Irritable Grizzzly for the mad beta skills.**

* * *

**Sketch**

~B~

The meadow was alive with yellow roses. The air smelled of them and light shone down on them making the world look like a living sun. It was so bright that she had to squint to see the man beside her. He was sparkling like a million diamonds, but his eyes were brooding.

Where was Jacob? This was their place.

He handed her another bouquet. Her arms were bursting with flowers. They ached from the weight of them.

"Why are you giving me these?" she heard herself ask. "There are so many of them. I don't need all these flowers."

"Yes you do, Bella." He looked at her now, his green eyes sad and intense. "You need them. I need you to have them."

"Okay." She gathered them around her.

The phone rang.

She jerked awake and reached automatically for the phone. The night-light she never turned off cast a dim glow around her room, which still seemed dark after the bright vivid light of her dream.

Disoriented, she brought the receiver to her hear. "Hello?" It was barely more than a whisper.

"Bella?" Charlie's voice was a forced calm, and too loud in the night.

"Dad?" She reached across the nightstand and fumbled for her cell phone. She flipped it open and read the time on the too-bright display. 3:02 am.

"Honey, I need you to wake up all the way. Are you sitting up?" There were sirens and urgent voices in the background.

"Hold on." She struggled to prop herself up against the headboard, and felt her heart begin to pound. "What's wrong?"

He fought the frantic edge out of his voice. "It's Ben and Angela, honey. There's been a fire at their apartment."

"What?" She was bolt upright now.

"Bella? You can't panic. They got the fire out." It seemed important to give her the good news first, however insignificant.

"Are they okay?" Her hands felt cold as they trembled and the phone suddenly felt too heavy.

"Angela's shaken up, but she'll be fine. Ben…" Charlie took a deep breath. She had a right to know. They were her best friends. "Ben's not in good shape. They're life-flighting him to Hoquiam, and once he's stable they'll take him to a special burn unit in Seattle. He got Angie out and then went back for Nomad, but it was too late. He got turned around and then the fire cut off his exit. He passed out. Tyler pulled him out after they got there, but Bella… it's not good."

She felt her chest tighten and her breaths came short and shallow. She couldn't see past the tears in her eyes.

"Bella? Bella are you there?" Her lack of response scared him.

"Yeah," she struggled to make herself heard. "I'm here, I just… can't believe it. Angela was just here. She was going home to him… we were laughing…" Her voice hitched. Hours ago Angela was showing her a mysterious bouquet of flowers and having a good time making Bella guess who the secret admirer was. Hours ago her husband was calling to ask where she was, and Angela was teasing him about not bringing her flowers anymore.

"Baby, I'm so sorry."

"I need to get to her. Angela needs me." Bella, forgetting the cut on her foot, was flinging her legs over the edge of the bed.

"She's with Ben. They're already gone."

She felt so helpless, so useless and lost. "I can't just sit here."

"I'll come and get you. Stay put."

"Okay." She ended the call, put her head in her hands, and wept.

~E~

Edward heard Charlie's end of the conversation and decided to make a call of his own.

"What is it?" Alice's voice was groggy, but anxious.

"Another fire," Edward spoke quickly so that he could get back to work. "Listen, it was Ben and Angela's apartment –"

"Are they alright?" Already she was completely alert. Edward could hear her pushing out of bed and moving around her room.

"No, Ben got burned real badly. I don't know if he'll come out of it. Angela's fine. She went with him in the chopper. Charlie just called Bella and told her and she's on her way here. I'm guessing she'll be pretty upset."

"You want me to come be with her." It wasn't a question. Somehow Alice could always predict what people needed.

"Yeah, they were her best friends. I think she could use one now."

"I'll be right there."

"Thanks Al."

He flipped the phone closed and wiped the sweat from his brow before putting his hat back on and walking over to George to get orders for the next step.

Tyler was already there, nodding at whatever George was saying to him.

"This wasn't a coincidence. I think that's clear now," George was saying. "Three fires in two weeks… I just don't see the connection. I can't figure out the Who or the Why of it."

"It could just be random arson." Tyler looked exhausted. Edward reminded himself that he'd just had to load one of his life-long friends into a chopper and watch him fly away without knowing if he'd be alright. He had a right to look tired.

"I don't know. There's too much to do tonight to think about it."

Quil ran over with a report. "The building's been evacuated. Lauren Mallory is going to her parents. Ester and Bob are still in Florida, and Marty and Teena weren't home. Their kids were with the Newton's, and that's where they'll stay tonight. They just came back from an evening in Port Angeles. I told them what happened."

"Good," George nodded in approval. "What about the occupants in the fifth apartment?"

"It was empty, but there's some empty gas cans in the kitchen. It looks like someone's been in there recently. There was still water in the sink."

"When Charlie gets back, we'll have him dust for prints. I'm guessing the arsonists set up in the empty room. So this was planned." He shook his head. "Tomorrow morning we'll interview everyone to find out if somebody saw anything or anyone out of the ordinary. I'll need to get in touch with Angela, but that can wait… I can't believe this is happening here." He scratched his chin and looked around.

The apartment building was small, and housed only five units and a small laundry on the ground floor. Ben and Angela's apartment was on the second floor, above the laundry room and both had been completely engulfed. There was a little damage to the neighboring rooms, but they managed to get the fire under control before those were completely destroyed.

"Tell Steve to keep the hose on it for another twenty minutes or so, and then we'll shut it down and let it smolder out. We're going to go through this one piece by piece, boys. There're clues here and we can't afford to miss them. We have to sort this out before it happens again. People are getting hurt."

They nodded solemnly.

Edward heard the hum of a familiar engine and looked up to see Alice whipping into the lot. Under different circumstances, he might have found her reckless driving amusing, seeing as she was always the one giving him a bad time about his own.

A moment later, Charlie's cruiser pulled in and parked beside her.

"Edward, can you run over and tell Charlie we need him?" George began to follow Quil toward the building. "We'll be in the fifth unit."

"Alright." He hurried toward the parking lot, grateful for the excuse to see Bella.

Charlie was helping her out of the car, telling her to put her weight on him. Alice hurried over and took her other arm. Together they helped her to the curb, being careful of her foot, where she sat down and stared – horrified – at her best friend's destroyed home. The shock was written clearly in every feature. Edward's heart went out to her, violently. When he realized what he felt, it was too late to stop it. He went to her.

He knelt before her, oblivious to the awkward audience made up by his own sister and her father. He took one of her hands in his. It was small and cold and trembling. She was deadly pale, her eyes dark pools filled with tears. "I'm so sorry Bella," he squeezed her hand in his. "I'm sure they're going to be alright."

She nodded mechanically, meeting his gaze but not really seeing him. "I can't believe this." She looked back at the building. "I can't believe this happened."

"I know." She was clearly in shock. He was glad he'd thought to call Alice. Charlie would be busy with the investigation. Bella would need someone nearby, someone to watch her.

Edward stood up and looked to Charlie. He was watching his daughter with concern. "George needs us in the fifth unit. Alice can stay with Bella."

Alice nodded and sat down beside her, putting one of her tiny arms around Bella's shoulders.

Charlie nodded. There was work to be done.

The unit was on the ground floor. Like all of the other apartments in the building, it was small and cozy. The kitchen and living area were visible from the front door. Both were clean and unfurnished. The smell of smoke and gasoline hung in the air.

Quil quickly showed Charlie where the gas cans were placed on the kitchen countertops. They were empty.

"Alright, no one touch anything. I think it's safe to declare this a crime scene." Charlie paced through the apartment. There were fibers on the carpet that could easily have come from shredded sheets and cloths. The kitchen sink was still damp, and splashes of – something – were splattered all over the floor. He took in every detail.

George ordered everyone out. Charlie was in one of the bedrooms, kneeling on the hardwood floor, examining a pile of ashes and recently burnt papers. Something made him freeze and call to George to have Edward stay behind to help him.

Edward followed Charlie's voice to the back bedroom and paused in the doorway. Charlie was looking at him warily, holding up a piece of partially burnt paper with a gloved hand.

Edward walked in closer to get a better look. It was the bottom corner of a familiar ivory card. Most of the message was destroyed, but his name, in his own handwriting, was scrawled clearly across what was left of it. Yellow petals were scattered around the room. His heart stopped.

"What's this?" Charlie watched as the color drained from Edward's face.

"It's the card," Edward replied dazedly. "It's the card I was going to give to Bella."

"Explain," Charlie ordered quickly as he carefully placed the card in an evidence bag.

"I was going to take your advice, you know, tell Bella about everything. I got flowers for her, and that card was attached to them." Edward pointed, too horrified to let embarrassment or pride get in the way of the story. "I was going to stop by on my way to the station. I chickened out and threw them away."

"When?"

"Last night around… I don't know – eight?"

"Where was the trash can?"

"On the street. The one on the street right in front of her shop."

Charlie felt his stomach do a flip. "Did you see anyone?"

"No – but I wasn't really paying attention."

Charlie nodded.

"You must be right." Edward ran a hand through his hair and pinched the bridge of his nose in distress. "It has to be James."

Charlie agreed glumly. "Looks that way."

Edward paced the room, feeling the world close in around him. "How did he get to me so fast?" he said, almost to himself. "Why can't he let it go?"

Charlie stood up from his crouch after satisfying himself that there was nothing else to collect. "He blames you because he can't blame himself. He obviously wants our attention. He wants you to know who's done this."

"But why Ben and Angela? I barely know them."

"You had them over for dinner, right?" Charlie remembered Bella telling him a little about that evening. "Bella too." Again, his stomach did a flip.

"Yeah." Edward met Charlie's gaze as though he knew what he was thinking. "I'm sorry I brought this here."

"You didn't know he would follow you," Charlie said slowly.

"I should have. I can leave. I can be gone tomorrow. You shouldn't have to deal with this mess."

"Is that how you deal with your problems, Edward?" Charlie looked him square in the eye, "By running away?"

"If it protects the people I care about, yes."

"This is here now, in my town. I can deal with it. I _will_ deal with it. You running away won't solve anything. You'll just take it somewhere else." Charlie ran a weary hand over his face. "We know who's behind it now, and we know why. It shouldn't be that hard to track him down."

"Don't underestimate him," Edward warned.

Charlie gave him a small smile. "Don't underestimate me," he replied.

~J~

My brother didn't know about the clues I'd left. He would be mad if he did, but I was careful - so careful. I just needed them to know we were watching. I just needed them to know.


	15. Frame

**A/N: ****I missed you guys!**

**Sorry about the ridiculous delay. I'm not living at my own house right now, and the internet here is... difficult. It works great as long as the wind doesn't blow, it doesn't rain, or, heaven forbid, a pine needle doesn't fall on the phone line. I've been so deprived.**

**Anyways, the good news is that with all my spare time I managed to write a bigger than normal chapter. The next one will be bigger too. **

**Thanks to my beta, Irritable Grizzzly, for putting up with me during this difficult time. And also thank you for making me rewrite what was once my lame excuse for this chapter. You rock.**

**Oh, a side note, I'm introducing a new character this chapter, and I took liberties in modernizing the spelling of his name. I hope you don't mind.**

**Thanks OCD_Indeed for doing your thing.**

**That's all, read on. :)**

* * *

**Framed**

Alice never stopped moving. She had a knack for knowing what needed to be done and having it done before it even crossed anyone else's mind. That's why, when the fire investigation was finished, and the cleanup began, and the sheriff brought them back to the station with him, she settled Bella in his office with a hot cup of tea. Then she ran upstairs and raided the fridge for anything she could fry up for breakfast for a crew of hungry police officers and firemen. They would soon be returning to the station, dirty, hungry, and tired.

Charlie had asked Edward to come back to the station as soon as he could, so that they could let Bella in on what was going on. He thought Edward should have the chance to tell her himself, since it was his past and his business. He made sure Bella was comfortable in one of his plush, worn-in, office chairs, and then he ran down the hall to make some calls from the main desk, where Bella couldn't overhear him.

Edward beat the rest of the crew back to the station, and though he was covered in a fine layer of soot and ash, he went straight to Charlie's office to find them. Bella was hunched in one of the chairs, blindly staring at the ground. Her face was even more pale than usual, making her eyes stand out bigger and darker. He wanted so badly to erase the devastated expression from her face, and to replace it with some color and a smile. He felt a quick pull in his gut and ignored it, telling himself it was natural. It was in his nature to protect the vulnerable, that was all… it had absolutely nothing to do with how soft and tempting her mouth looked, even drawn down in despair.

The tea Alice had forced on her was going lukewarm in the full mug she held. Edward gently took it from her hands and she looked up at him. "Hey," he said, by way of a greeting.

"Hey," she said, attempting a smile that never fully formed.

He looked down at the mug and grimaced. He'd never understood why his sister thought that a nice cup of tea was the solution for any problem. "You want me to warm this up?"

Bella shook her head. "No, I didn't really want it in the first place. Alice insisted."

Edward smiled and walked over to fill his own mug with fresh coffee. "Yeah, she does that. Want some of this instead?" He held up the pot.

"Yes please." She looked so relieved that he chuckled and fixed her a mug to match his own.

Bella watched his back as he poured the coffee. She tried not to notice how nice his back was, or how his shirt clung to his shoulders and then sagged past his torso to rest against his jeans. His shoulders were so broad and his arms…she blushed scarlet and looked away as he turned around.

He looked at her intensely for a moment, wondering where to begin. She was staring down at her hands in her lap, her hair a curtain between them. He wanted to pull it back so that he could see her eyes. He pulled up a chair and sat before her so that their knees where nearly touching.

The look in his eyes confused her when she looked up again. It was nearly the same expression he'd had right before he kissed her. It was intense, apprehensive, almost… angry?

"Ben is going to be fine," he told her, watching as her eyes rose to meet his and tears swam into them. "He was burned pretty badly, but I've seen injuries like that before - lots of times. His weren't life-threatening."

She exhaled in a long gust, and tried to blink away the moisture in her eyes that was threatening to spill over. He hadn't pet her, or held her, or given any murmurs of empty sympathy. He'd simply looked her in the eyes and told her the truth. The very thing she needed most to hear. She was so grateful. "Thank you."

"I need to talk to you," he began, "I need to tell you something." He was staring into his mug. He looked up, asking permission with his eyes.

"Okay," she replied uncertainly.

"It's about the fires." He saw no reason to drag out the conversation. He got right to the point. "I know who's starting them and why."

Her eyebrows shot up. "You do? You have to tell Charlie!" Forgetting her injury, she jumped to her feet and winced.

He stood with her, and set down his mug as he grabbed her shoulders and she shifted her weight off of her cut foot. "Whoa, hold on." Her eyes widened at the feel of his hands against her skin. He eased her back down and trailed one hand down her arm until he found her hand and held on.

"Your dad knows," he explained quickly, "actually, he figured it out before I did." He sighed and ran his free hand through his hair in frustration. "It's all very complicated and it's a long story. It's… I…" He stopped and shook his head. "I didn't think it would be this hard to tell you." He smiled crookedly and her heart skipped a few beats.

"I guess I'll just start at the beginning and we can go from there, alright?"

Bella nodded.

"Okay, I was sixteen." His eyes darkened as he remembered. "I was on the football team. My brother Emmett is two years older than I am. He was a senior and the captain of our team. Our team sucked. I mean, we were terrible. Awful. Some of our parents didn't even come to the games. The student body even talked about having rallies for neighboring teams.

The matter-of-fact way that he said it made Bella smile and he relaxed a little to see it. He smiled back.

Anyway, about halfway through the season, a new family transferred in from somewhere in Michigan; James, Victoria, and Tanya Denali. James thought he was some sort of big football star. He was pretty good, but Emmett and I managed to outplay him most of the time. He hated our guts."

Charlie finished with his calls and headed back to his office to wait for Edward. He paused outside his office door when he heard Edward's voice. He listened as Edward's voice rose and fell in the rhythm of his story. He decided not to interrupt them, but instead, followed the scent of bacon frying and headed upstairs.

"I started dating his sister Tanya who was on the cheerleading squad – cliché, I know," he grimaced. "I thought I was in love with her. She was sweet, and kind… and freaking hot."

Bella laughed and he stopped.

"What?"

"You have a great laugh. You should do that more often."

"Oh." Bella wasn't sure what to say back. She blushed scarlet.

Edward thought she should do that more often too, but decided he'd made her uncomfortable enough for the moment. He continued his story.

"Anyway, we dated for, I don't know, six months or so. That seemed like a life-time back then. I thought we were 'soul mates'." There was something regretful in his tone, but resigned.

"Her home life was pretty rough. Her mom was really sick, and I sort of got the impression that they were having a hard time keeping up with the bills. It was something I'd never had to worry about. I lived a privileged life. My family always had plenty of money. I never really paid attention to it, you know. I didn't really care one way or the other. It was just money." He paused and ran a hand through his hair.

"I tried talking to her about it a few times, you know, about her home life and stuff. I always had a bad feeling about her brother James. He was a creep and I knew he didn't like me, but there was something about him that really got under my skin. I was afraid he was in trouble, and bringing it on the family. I was worried. I just had some questions."

"We were in her driveway one day after school. I was dropping her off, and I was just trying to make sure her family was okay. I asked – I can't even remember now – I think I asked her if James was using, or maybe he was gambling. Anyway, she screamed all of the sudden. Well, it was more like a yelp, and she was looking past me. I turned around and James was there. His face was practically pressed against my window." Edward suppressed a shudder, remembering. "The look in his eyes… I can't even describe it. He was mad – no – he was more than that. He was livid. It was the first time I saw the depth of his anger toward me. He told me – well, he told me a bunch of stuff I won't repeat. He was yelling, pounding on the car, telling me to get out and face him like a man, so I did."

Bella's jaw dropped.

He shrugged. "Pride," as though that explained it. "Then he took a swing at me."

"He hit you?"

"Broke my nose, yeah." He rubbed it, remembering.

"But why?"

"Maybe he overheard me talking about him. Tanya's window had been open. Who knows? That's the thing you have to understand about James. He's angry and he's crazy. He doesn't need a reason."

"So we fought. We threw a few punches until Tanya's dad came out and broke us up. Tanya was crying, I was – well, I was mad. Of course, I didn't know that was just the beginning of my troubles.

"A couple months later things weren't so great with Tanya and me. After my fight with James, she was torn between me and family loyalty. I think James was talking to her a lot at home, trying to break us up. He had this friend who called himself Arrow, and they hung out a lot. James was always trying to get Tanya interested in him. He was trying anything to get her away from the likes of me." He smiled ruefully.

"It finally worked I guess, because she cheated on me with Arrow and we broke it off. I sort of felt like it was coming, the break-up I mean. Our 'relationship' had run its course. It was just a high-school thing. I knew it wouldn't last forever, but it still sort of hurt. First love and all of that."

Bella saw the hurt in his face and squeezed his hand, thinking of Jacob. She knew exactly what he meant. He squeezed back, but his expression darkened as he continued.

"So James got his way, and we broke up, but that wasn't enough for him. He was bent on making my life miserable. It became a weird focus for him. He couldn't leave it alone.

"At first it was little stuff, you know, annoying pranks. He would let the air out of my tires, and once he TP'd my house. My dad worried that it was getting out of hand and someone was going to end up hurt. He wanted me to report it, but I wouldn't let him. I told him it was just pranks. Just stupid little stuff and he'd get over it eventually. I ignored it for the most part, until, as my dad suspected, it turned dangerous. It turned out my ignoring him only made him angrier."

"It was – uh, it was the night of homecoming." For the first time the rhythm of the story broke and Edward stuttered over the words. Bella sensed something serious was coming, and she leaned forward, bracing for it. He shifted, looked down at their casually entwined fingers, and continued. "After the game, we all celebrated. We won. We actually beat another team. It was a big deal. There was a party after. A bonfire, you know. The whole thing. Every member of the team, the cheerleading squad, well, basically the whole student body was there - the only one missing was James. I left early, around midnight. I had a weird headache. It wasn't anything serious, but I just didn't feel like staying out all night, so I headed home.

"I stopped by the field to pick up my gear. My mom used to get annoyed when I left my sweaty stuff there over the weekend. There was only one other car in the lot, and I recognized it as Tanya's dad's. I was deciding whether or not I wanted to risk running into them, when I saw the smoke." He paused and cleared his throat.

"The girl's locker room was on fire. There wasn't anyone around, and I started yelling for help. I yelled for Tanya through the hallway, but there was too much smoke and I couldn't see. There was a hose on the outside wall that ran the back-up sprinkler, so I grabbed it. It didn't think. I just pulled my shirt up over my face and ran inside. Tanya's dad was just inside the doorway, and I could see – "his voice broke a little. He knew better than to be embarrassed, so he just ran a hand over his face and continued. Bella's stomach turned over as she realized his words before he even said them. "I could see her legs sticking out from under a bench." He was lost all over again in the smoke and the heat. The flames that leapt toward him, too bright, playing tricks on his eyes, but he knew the unmistakable smell of burning flesh. He wouldn't describe it to her. He wasn't ready to take her there with him.

He cleared his throat again and pressed on. "Well, neither of them survived. I tried to get it under control, and then I finally remembered to call for help." He shook his head. "The authorities showed up, and they asked me a bunch of questions, and then they arrested me."

"What?" Bella's voice was quiet, but it didn't take away from the shocked outrage that he heard in it.

"We were there for hours. At first I was a hero for trying to save them, but then they started questioning people. A bunch of people remembered seeing Tanya leave the party, and me shortly after. I told them about my headache, and some of Tanya's friends said she was complaining of similar symptoms. They found drugs in both our systems."

"If you both had it in your systems, didn't they know you weren't the one who drugged her?" Bella asked quietly.

"Oh, they had other evidence." Edward said bitterly. "They searched my car, and found gas cans like the one the fire investigators found in the locker room. There was still gasoline in one of the cans. They ran chemical tests and matched the gasoline to the stuff that was used as an accelerant in the fire."

"But how - ?" Bella began.

"They were planted. I was framed. I'd had a sweatshirt of Tanya's that I should have just given it back to her, but instead I let it ride around in my car. He tore it up and used it to control the route of the flames. He would have found it symbolic, and a great way to frame me. James' other sister, Victoria, told the police that Tanya had been talking about getting the sweatshirt back from me. They found the rest of the sweatshirt in my car."

"It was James?" Bella's voice was little more than a whisper. She could picture the horror in her head. Her hand trembled in Edward's.

He nodded grimly.

"But – But his own sister…"

"Maybe that wasn't part of his plan. It's possible he only wanted to make it _look_ like I was going to start the fire. I don't think he was really going to go through with it." Edward laughed once, harshly, as he ran a hand through his hair again. "But who knows, this is James we're talking about. As I said, Tanya also left the party early, complaining of the same headache I had, caused by the drugs, plus she was completely sloshed.

Her dad came to pick her up from the bonfire. One of her friends told the police that she asked her dad to take her back to the field because she left her purse behind.

"Arrow had gotten her into smoking. Apparently she decided to have a quick smoke while she was there. Her locker was completely surrounded by gasoline, so it wouldn't have taken much…" He trailed off. "Her dad must have seen the smoke and went in… If James did intend to actually set the fire, I don't think he realized how big the fire would be, or how quickly it would spread." He paused again and shook his head, troubled. "I never understood why she didn't smell the gas."

He couldn't look at her, not yet. He trudged on. "All the evidence pointed to me, the jaded ex-boyfriend. I was arrested."

"Oh Edward!"

The passionate sympathy in her voice threw him off balance. His eyes met hers. They were filled with sympathy and concern, but not pity. He let out a quick breath. A warm fist closed around his heart.

"My whole family knew I was innocent. They really fought for me, but the evidence, even though circumstantial, couldn't be denied.' It wasn't technically admissible in court, but you put everything together like Tanya's and my history, the breakup, along with everything else… I can't even really blame them for thinking it was me."

"But the evidence was planted!" Bella couldn't seem to control the outrage she was feeling. "And you were just a kid! Surely there was a way to prove it was James."

Edward shrugged. "We tried, but James was good at hiding his trail. There was nothing we could do without a confession.

My dad is sort of high profile in his profession and the community, so the story got a lot of media attention. "The Son of the World Renowned Surgeon: A Killer!" It was hard on my whole family. My dad went to James and spoke with him. He's so compassionate and kind that he felt sorry for James even knowing what he'd done. He offered their family two million dollars if James would confess to what really happened so that I could go free."

Bella gasped at the amount. He gave her another rueful smile. "It's just money," he repeated.

"James agreed. His mom was sick and his father was dead. He knew he was responsible. He accepted the money and turned himself in for a plea deal. He got ten years.

"Of course, the media got wind of the 'money for confession' part of the story and ran with it. I was free, but to the public, I was still guilty. After a few months it died down and almost everyone forgot. I was young, so I got over that part… until recently, when James time came up and he got out."

Bella saw the pieces coming together. "So you think James is out for revenge."

Edward nodded. "I came here because when James got out, the media made a big deal out of the story again. New friends I'd made, the guys at my station for example, who didn't remember the incident or hadn't paid attention, suddenly started looking at me differently. Some of them started avoiding me. I just… I just couldn't take it, so I ran. I didn't think he would follow me here or I never would have come." He began to speak quickly, looking earnestly into Bella's eyes. "I wouldn't have led him here if I thought he was still holding a grudge. He's crazy. I guess I knew that, but I didn't see this response in him, and I'm usually pretty good at reading people. I mean, I really believe the whole thing with the fire had gotten out of hand and that he hadn't actually intended to kill people."

"So you think he's the one who did this to Ben and Angela?" Her voice had died down, but her eyes flashed.

Edward nodded. "I haven't made a whole lot of friends since coming here. You, Ben, Angela, and the other guys at the station are really the only ones I've socialized with."

"But why them? If it's you he's after, why hurt Ben and Angela? Why go after people he doesn't even know?"

Edward watched her face as her mind worked and the color seeped back into her cheeks. He answered carefully, thinking it through as he spoke. "It's always been a mind game for James. All he really wants to do is get inside my head. If I know James, he's thinking the best way to hurt me is to hurt the people I care about, and he's right."

"I can't believe someone could react that way. Why would anyone want to hold on to that much hate?"

Edward's eyes darkened when he answered. This was a part of James that he understood perfectly, no matter how much he yearned not to. "Because if you keep busy hating other people, you don't have any time left to hate yourself."

Bella watched a range of emotions play across his face, and the echo in his voice, but when he finished speaking, he looked calm enough.

"So what are you going to do?"

He smiled ruefully, knowing he was getting to the uncomfortable part. "The real question, Bella, is what are _you_ going to do?"

Her heart fluttered at his casual use of her name, but she frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well, there's more I haven't gotten to yet, and it has to do with you."

This time when her heart fluttered, it was guided by fear. "What do you mean?" she repeated.

He decided to get right to the point. "I brought you flowers." He expected her to look surprised, but instead, he was fascinated to see her blush.

"I know," she said sheepishly. "Angela saw you. She brought them to me last night. She tried to make me guess who they were from, but eventually she broke down and told me."

"Oh." Now it was his turn to look embarrassed.

She almost asked him what stopped him from knocking on her door, but decided not to.

Edward wanted to tell her why he chickened out, but he didn't know himself, so he skipped the explanation and went on with the main point. "Well, James must have been watching. He dug this out of the trash." Edward passed her the partially burnt card that held his signature, protected by the clear evidence bag. "It went with the flowers. He left it in the apartment building on purpose. He wanted me to find it. He wants me to know who he's after next."

He watched the color drain from her face as she looked up from the evidence he held, and her hand went cold in his, but her expression didn't falter. "And you've figured out who that is?" They were both relieved that her voice was steady.

"Yeah," he replied grimly, "You."

She looked back at the card and nodded, resigned. "Me," she said to herself. She pulled her hand from his and stood up slowly. He stood with her and offered her his arm to hold the weight off her foot, but she shook her head. "It's okay," she said quietly, "It doesn't hurt that much." She limped around the desk, needing to move, needing to think. No. Needing _not_ to think.

She looked up at the clock and sighed with relief. It was almost time to open the shop for the day. She was exhausted, yes, but she knew she couldn't sleep now. She needed time, and she needed to keep busy.

"I have to go," she said wearily.

Edward had been watching her carefully as a handful of emotions played across her face. Pain, fear, worry, fear, determination, and now she was standing across from him, pale and calm, telling him that she had somewhere to be.

"Excuse me?" he asked, incredulous.

"I have to go or I'm going to be late for work," she informed him softly.

He frowned at her and shook his head. "Sit down Bella," he said shortly. This was surely some form of shock he'd never witnessed.

"I'm sorry, I can't. I have to open my shop." She was making her way towards the door. "There's more to talk about, I know, so why don't you come by after your shift is up and we'll talk then?" She was reaching for the knob. Her voice was calm, but Edward noticed her hands were trembling. At least some part of her was acting reasonably, he thought. "If you don't mind, would you ask Charlie to come by on his lunch hour?" She was pulling open the door, about to make her escape, when a hand was reached over hers, and slammed it shut again. She turned around in surprise and dismay to find Edward's face in hers, his eyes dark. He was boxing her in with his arms braced on either side of her. Her back was against the door.

"Sit down Bella," he repeated angrily through clenched teeth.

"No." His tone had gotten her back up. "I told you, I have to go to work."

His breath was hot across her face. "Sit. Down."

She had to get out of this tiny room. She needed to go home. She needed to work. She needed to do normal things. She needed to not think about their conversation. She needed to not think about the fact that she'd just been told a serial arsonist had probably made her his next target. She just needed some air.

"Move out of my way, Edward Cullen," she said darkly. She held on to the anger she felt towards him. Her insides were shaking. Focusing on the anger was the thing that was keeping her on her feet. What made him think he could tell her what to do?

"Make me," he said through his teeth. Part of him wanted to grab her and hold her and tell her everything was going to be fine. Another part of him wanted to toss her over his shoulder and force her into a chair. Didn't she know her knees were shaking? She wanted to go to work after the night she'd just had? He wanted to laugh and he wanted to shake her all at the same time.

She shoved at his shoulders and pushed uselessly at his hands. Finally she dropped her arms in defeat. "Please," she nearly whispered.

"No," He shook his head and continued to box her in so she would listen. "You aren't going to work. You can barely stand. We need to talk about this and then you need to sleep. Everyone will understand. Your shop will still be there tomorrow."

"Will it?" Her voice wavered. She had stopped fighting and the fire had gone out of her eyes. Now he only saw fear. Finally, he thought, a normal reaction. Still, it hurt him to see it, to hear it in her voice.

"Yeah." He pushed off the doorframe and moved his hands to her shoulders. "He's not going to get to you." Edward wasn't sure who he was trying to convince more. "I'm not going to let him get to you. He's taken enough from me. It ends here."

He would tell himself later that it was pure instinct that had him pulling her to him and holding her close. "I'm so sorry I brought him here. I'm so sorry this is happening," he said as he pressed his lips to her forehead. Yes. Later he'd convince himself it was all just based on instinct.


	16. Watercolor

**A/N: Thanks to Irritable Grizzzly for the beta skills. Thanks to all of you for the reviews and favorites and alerts. They make me so happy. :)**

**I can't wait to hear what you make of this chapter. Tell me, tell me, tell me! **

* * *

**Watercolor**

~E~

She held it together through breakfast, though she barely touched her plate. The rest of the boys came in and suddenly the station's kitchen was crowded with tired police officers and firemen who all smelled like smoke. Who all reminded Bella with their sober faces and grim expressions that less than eight hours ago, two of her best friends had been whisked away in a helicopter because someone – some crazy, vengeful man – had thought they deserved to have their home burned to the ground.

And hers was probably next.

Suddenly the room was too small, the air too thick to breathe. She quietly pushed back her chair and made her way out of the kitchen and back to the stairwell.

Edward watched her go and wanted to go after her. She was pale again, her eyes panicked. He wanted to go calm her down, find out what was wrong and apologize again for bringing his problems into her life - but his phone was vibrating in his pocket and he had to answer it. It was Emmett.

He pushed past Alice, who was cracking yet another dozen eggs into a skillet and demanding that Quil pile his plate higher. He made his way to the quiet of the game-room and answered the call.

"Emmett?"

"Yeah it's me." Emmett's voice was low and professional, police-like. Edward understood this meant that he'd made some discoveries about James.

"Know anything?"

"James isn't your guy."

Edward let that settle in his mind for a moment, and then shook his head. "Excuse me?"

"James isn't starting your fires. He hasn't left Illinois since the day he got out. He's checked in with his parole officer regularly." Emmett sighed, "He's following all the rules, being a model citizen. Sorry man, I don't know what to tell you."

Edward dropped into a chair and ran a hand through his hair. "That doesn't make any sense. It has to be him."

"I thought so too," Emmett agreed. "I mean, the timing, the fact that you're there, the fact that it's fires… the fact that he's completely nuts."

Edward smiled. He couldn't help himself.

"Hold on – last time we talked you weren't convinced it was James. In fact, I think it was more like the opposite."

Edward sighed. "I know, but there've been some… developments."

"For instance?"

Edward related what had happened the night before, including the evidence from the empty unit.

"And there was a card in the middle of the floor, one I'd signed. They'd burnt the edges, carefully, deliberately, but my name was still clear. I was sure it was James and he wanted me to know it was him. I felt like it was a clue, or a message, well, more like a warning really," Edward paused, "It _has_ to be James."

"Sorry brother, it's not." Emmett chewed on it for a minute. "So who was the card for?"

"I don't think that's relevant."

"It could be." Emmett was still in police-mode, "It could be related to –"Then he caught on to Edward's defensive tone and snapped into brother-mode. "Hold on…" Edward could hear the evil grin even in his voice, "was it for a girl?" He dragged out the last word and chuckled.

"It doesn't matter."

"HA!" Emmett laughed again. "It was. You've met someone."

"You're getting off the subject." He kept his voice cool and even, hoping to bring his brother back to his professional demeanor.

What Emmett heard was that he was cold and defensive, and he couldn't help himself. It had been way too long since he'd gotten to rag his little brother about a girl.

"Is she pretty?"

"Emmett," Edward growled into the phone.

"Is she there? Put her on."

"I'm hanging up," but he didn't and couldn't help his mouth twitching up at the corners. Then he pulled himself together. "This is serious."

The reminder worked and Emmett sobered.

"Alright then, we'll save that for later. Listen man, what I've told you, I got from James' Denali parole officer. I requested the chance to question him myself, but we'll have to go through all the proper channels and it could take a few days to get the green light."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" He remembered that James hated Emmett almost as much as he hated Edward.

"Me being there might put him on the defensive, I know. If I decide to, I could always get my partner to question him for me while I observe. I just have to get a read on the guy, you know?"

"But if he wasn't in Washington, I mean, if he wasn't here, what's the point? He didn't do it."

"Not personally – no - but maybe he's got somebody working for him. Possibly somebody he met inside who has connections, or somebody who's name starts with an 'A' and ends with 'r-r-o-w'."

It was an obvious angle. Edward was annoyed with himself that he didn't think of it first.

"Are you sure you want to be involved in all of this? I mean, if it is James, he's determined and ruthless and crazy. I don't want my family hurt. I don't want you to take any chances."

"I'm a big boy, Edward, and a police officer. I can handle it."

Edward knew he could, but he still couldn't shake the guilt. He sighed, "Alright."

"You sound tired, little bro. You should take it easy. Get some sleep. I'll call you if I learn anything new."

"Yeah, okay." Edward stood up from his chair and stretched his back. He was already exhausted, and his shift was only half over.

"You still want me to keep this from the folks?"

Edward thought about it a moment, "Yeah, for now. If it turns out James has nothing to do with any of it, there'll be nothing to tell. I don't want them to worry needlessly. If you feel like he's involved somehow, I'll tell them myself when it's time."

"Okay, your call. Take care of yourself."

"You too. Talk to you soon."

After his talk with Emmett, he didn't know what to think.

~B~

Charlie found her in the stairwell, sitting on a step with her chin on her knees.

"Hey kiddo, you okay?" He sat down heavily beside her and rubbed a hand over his face.

"Yeah," she tried to paste a smile on her face, but struggled, "just tired."

"I know the feeling," Charlie paused for a beat, looking at her, "Edward talked to you."

She nodded without looking at him. She knew as soon as she did, she would fall apart and that wouldn't help anyone.

"Heavy stuff," Charlie rested his elbows on his knees and locked his hands together. "It's going to be hard on you, but I'm going to be watching over you like a hawk. I don't want you staying in that apartment alone at night. You can come home with me, or I can bunk on your couch, I don't care, but you aren't to be alone."

She suddenly felt young and vulnerable and helpless. She didn't care for it. "I'll be fine Dad."

"No, I'm serious. I know you're – what? – twenty-one now?"

"Twenty-three."

"Really?"

She laughed from the expression of genuine surprise on his face.

He smiled. "Wow, twenty-three? Man, the time really goes doesn't it?" He paused and shook his head, "Look, I know you're a grown woman and you don't want to take orders from your old man, but I'm only thinking about your safety here. Please do this for me. Just until this guy is caught."

"I'm not moving back home Dad."

"Alright, then I'll bunk with you. Now that the office is here, it'll be a fast commute."

"No."

"Now Bella –"

"No." Impatient, she cut him off and rose to her feet. "No, that's stupid, Dad. I can handle it. You can come over and look around, put up surveillance or whatever, but you don't need to babysit me."

Charlie could see that she was stressed and the shadows under her eyes told him she was tired. The combination gave her a very thin hold on her temper. He knew to tread carefully.

"Honey, this guy is crazy and dangerous, and I'm sorry, but I can't leave you there alone. I'm the Chief of Police. I'm your dad. It's my job to protect you."

She was already shaking her head. "Why?" Tears she couldn't fight back pooled in her eyes, "So what? So if he decides to torch my place, at least we'll die together?"

"Sweetheart," he stood too and pulled her into a hug. So that was it. This was the motivation behind her temper and her determination to keep him out. She was worried about him, not about herself. She was trying to protect him. She was scared. "You're going to be alright. It's going to be okay." He held her tighter when he felt her stiffen. "Honey we're going to get through this." He felt her finally surrender as her head dropped into his chest, and she finally let go of the tears she'd been holding back for hours.

The force of her grief staggered her. She cried for the friend she couldn't comfort, who was hurt and hundreds of miles away by now, alone and afraid for her husband, the love of her life. She cried for the young boy who'd lost someone so tragically, so unfairly, and grown into the bitter young man who blamed himself. She cried out of fear and sorrow. Then, as she always did in the midst of a good crying jag, she wept for Jacob. For the friend she'd lost and who she desperately needed now.

As his daughter's hot tears ruined his shirt, Charlie eased them both down and onto a step in the deserted stairwell. Bella was so strong, he knew. She seldom cried. She hardly ever let him see her vulnerable and it hurt to watch. So, as he rocked his daughter in his arms as she cried for those around her who were hurt or lost, he, Charlie Swan, Chief of Forks Police Force, shed a "manly tear" or two for her.

* * *

~E~

He finally found Charlie in the stairwell with an arm draped over a red-and-puffy-eyed Bella's shoulder.

"Sorry." Embarrassed to catch them in such an intimate moment, he eased back and would have shut the door again, but Charlie stopped him.

"Don't," he said, "Is there something you need?"

"My brother Emmett just called. He's the one who's a police officer in Chicago."

"Oh?"

"James hasn't left Illinois."

"Oh." He heard the heavy disappointment in Charlie's voice. He understood. It was easier to catch the enemy when you knew who the enemy was.

"Emmett's going to question him in the next couple of days because there might be a chance he's having someone do his dirty work for him."

"Yeah. That's a good idea, having your brother question him."

"I thought so."

There was a long moment of silence.

"Um, so yeah, that's it." Edward forced a smile and tried to lighten the mood and not stare at Bella's pale face and red eyes.

Charlie sighed, "Okay, I'm going to take Bella home now, and then I'll be back."

"Okay," Edward eased back and would have shut the door if he hadn't stepped back onto someone's foot.

"Ow, and hey," Alice greeted him. She poked her head around the door and smiled brightly. "Party in the stairwell, huh?" If she sensed the tense atmosphere, she hid it well.

"Yeah," Edward swung the door wide again. "Um, Charlie, I don't know if you've met my sister. This is Alice."

Charlie grinned. "Oh yeah, we've met. No one makes a better omelet. They should offer you a job at the diner down the street."

"I know, right?" Uninhibited by false modesty, Alice laughed. "They really should."

"You know, you don't have to stay. Charlie's about to take Bella home, and you should probably go home and get some sleep," Edward told Alice.

"Yeah, I probably should. Alright. Charlie, I can take Bella home if you have work to do. It looks like I'm dismissed."

"That's sweet of you, but I'll take her home. I need to have a look around. We can't be too careful." Charlie was getting to his feet and offered a quiet Bella his hand to help her up.

"Okay. Right." Alice said, confused. "Well take care Bella, and I don't want to be insensitive or anything, but if you need a hand at your shop, I would love to help out until Angela can get back to it."

"Thanks Alice," Bella's voice was raw and tired. Edward winced inwardly. "That would be wonderful. I'll call you later."

"Great, get some sleep."

Charlie led his daughter down the steps and Alice turned to Edward. "We can't be too careful?" she quoted Charlie, eyebrows raised. "What was that?"

Edward draped an arm over his sister's shoulders and led her back toward the deserted game-room. "Well, there's a few things I need to fill you in on," he paused and looked her in the eye, "and you should probably be sitting down."

Two hours later, after Charlie had personally gone through every inch of Bella's shop and apartment, checking all of the locks and windows, he'd finally satisfied himself that everything was normal. He made sure that Bella climbed into bed and put her feet up, and then he headed back to the station so that he and Edward could begin detailing the case with George.

George had called a meeting with the rest of the house and once the tired-eyed crew was gathered together, he filled them in on what was going on. Edward braced for the scorn that he was sure would come his way. He was ready to shoulder, in his opinion, the well-placed blame. But it never came. They had questions of course, but instead of sounding like accusations they sounded like curiosity, and even support. Edward found himself relaxing and opening up.

After all of the details had been related, George told them all to go home and get some sleep; even Edward and Tyler who were still, technically, in the middle of their regular shift.

"I've called in our volunteers, and four of them will be here by noon to cover for us. We're going to man up for the time being, so the schedule is going to change. I want five guys here at all times. I'll mix it up so that we can split our shifts up among our volunteer fire-fighters, our rookies, and our veterans. We don't know exactly what's going on here, and we can't afford to get tired and sloppy." George scanned the room and looked each of them in the eye. "I don't want any arguments. I know it's been hectic, and you've all been doing good work. It's not going to be easy sharing our space with the police force, and it's going to be crowded once the volunteers get settled, but we need them. I know most of them, and they're good guys. We need their help, and I'm not afraid to ask for it." He paused.

"Also, Charlie is going to contact the parole officer in Chicago and get some pictures of the guy, and his friend if he can. I want you all to take a close look at them and keep an eye out, on and off duty. We're going to be keeping an eye on Bella and her place as well. If anyone sees anything out of place, you need to report it."

They nodded.

"Any more questions?"

No one spoke.

"Good. Tyler, I'm going to have you stick around with me until noon. I don't want to see the rest of you again until eight a.m. tomorrow morning. I'll have the new schedule sorted out by then and we'll talk it through. Understood?"

Again they nodded.

"Alright. Good work. Get some sleep."

~B~

Bella should have been in one of those deep sleeps that took at least an earthquake to rouse her, but instead she was sleeping fitfully, dreaming of flames and running with no place to hide.

When her phone rang, she got it on the second ring, her heart racing.

"Hello?"

"Hello?" An elderly woman was on the other end. The fist squeezing her heart loosened slightly, the pounding in her head quieted. "Do you own that new place in Forks, Shoppe Bella?"

She breathed a sigh of relief, and cleared the sleep from her voice as she propped herself up. "Yes ma'am, this is Bella Swan. Is there something I can do for you?"

"Oh good, I've got the right number." The woman spoke in the slow deliberate way that elderly people have when they're not entirely comfortable with technology. "Let's see. I bought something from you a few days ago, and I have a question about it."

"Okay," Bella smiled patiently, "was there something wrong with your purchase?"

"Oh no honey, it was just lovely. It's one of those carved, wooden welcome signs that go by the front door. You know, the ones you have out there in the front corner?"

"Oh yes, those are very nice."

"Yes, and that's just the sort of thing I want to get my niece for a wedding gift. She's getting married in a couple of weeks, October fifth actually, and I was wondering if the artist would do something personalized, with her new last name maybe?"

Jake's birthday was in a couple of weeks, Bella realized with a jolt. How had October fifth snuck up on her so fast? She shook her head to clear it. "I'm not sure, but I have the name and number of the gentleman who makes them. Would you like me to give him a call and get right back to you?"

"That would be wonderful dear, but I'll need to know soon. The wedding is so close you know."

"I understand. I'll get to it right this minute."

"Oh thank you sweetie." The lady rattled off her name and phone number – twice, to make sure Bella got it all – and then hung up.

She simply couldn't sleep, and she was grateful to have an excuse not to as she slid out of bed. Still in her sweats, she stepped into a pair of worn-in slippers, pleased when the cut on her foot didn't bother her, and went out to the door that led down to her shop. She needed to find an invoice.

Down in her office, she dug through file cabinets until she wanted to pull her hair out. She couldn't find the paperwork she needed. She stepped out into the shop, hoping against hope that the unopened box on the top shelf would have what she needed still packed inside. She pulled her stepstool out from behind the counter and, armed with a razor-knife, she mounted it.

She cried out in triumph when she found an invoice tucked neatly inside with the rest of the inventory, and the man's name and number were typed clearly on the top. Holding it like a trophy, she carried it back to her office.

~E~

He was climbing into his car when he saw the movement in Bella's shop window. It was just a shadow moving past, but it got his heart pumping. Charlie had told him that Bella was sleeping. That would have only been two hours ago, which meant she should still be upstairs, passed out from exhaustion. In his opinion, she needed at least ten hours of sleep. She shouldn't be up until dinner-time, at least.

Later, he would ask himself why he didn't at least alert Charlie. Acting purely on instinct, he crossed the street and circled her building. Nothing looked tampered with, but he knew looks could be deceiving. He tried the knob on the back-door and found it locked. Without apology, he took a hair-pin out of his wallet and went to work on it. Cops knew all sorts of tricks that they were willing to teach to their little brothers.

He felt the lock give and slowly turned the knob. He cracked the door and listened intently. There was a rattle of papers but that was all. He pictured Arrow on the other side of the door, arranging paper and getting ready to strike the match. He imagined Bella, unsuspecting and innocent, asleep upstairs. Adrenaline began to course through his system.

He eased himself into the building and silently shut the door behind him. He was hidden in a small entry between the office and a small bathroom. He held his breath and began to ease around the corner for a peek at what was going on in the office. It finally occurred to him that he was unarmed, but it was too late to worry about that now.

Footsteps sounded, so he stepped back and waited for them to pass. They faded into the main shop. Slowly, muscles tensed, Edward followed. He paused in the office behind the door-jam and took a deep breath as he listened. There was a sound, like metal scraping wood. He eased his head around the corner and caught a reflection in one of the mirrors. Someone was climbing a ladder. He'd just have to wait until they reached the top, and then he would have the advantage.

He came around the corner quickly, prepared to overturn the ladder and then tackle Arrow before he knew what happened. There wouldn't be much of a struggle.

She had started back down after replacing the invoice. Filing was Angela's forte, not hers, so she would leave everything the way it was until Angela came back. She caught swift movement out of the corner of her eye and screamed as she lost her footing and began to fall, the razor-knife still clutched in her hand.

He froze when he realized it was Bella, and cursing, he rushed forward as she toppled. She landed hard on her side before he could get to her.

"Are you alright?" He knelt beside her. She didn't answer right away, alarming him. "Bella?"

She sucked in the breath that had been knocked out on her landing and laid a hand over her racing heart. "Edward." Relief came first, that it was someone she knew, followed promptly by confusion. "I'm alright. What are you doing here?"

At the same time he looked annoyed as he asked, "Why aren't you sleeping?" He pushed a hand through his hair in an impatient movement she was beginning to recognize. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah," she sat up easily, only feeling injury to her nervous system. "Why are you here? How did you get in?"

"I saw movement in your shop. You were supposed to be sleeping, so I thought I'd check it out. I picked that lame excuse for a lock you have on the back door and I – Bella?"

She'd lifted a hand from the floor and was staring at it. She began to look sickly as the color drained from her face, leaving it an alarming grey color. He watched as a small drop of red fell from her palm and plopped onto the wood floor beside a razor that had a red stain across the blade.

"Bella?" he asked again as he gripped her shoulders.

Her eyes tried to focus on him. "Don't," he demanded, shaking her slightly in desperation, "Stay with me."

"Sorry," she whispered, and then her eyes rolled back and she sagged against him.

He cursed in one long and fluent stream as he lowered her head to the floor. What was he supposed to do now?

He scooped her up in one angry movement and headed for the stairs to her apartment. His heart was pounding in his head and he could feel his arms trembling. He knew it had nothing to do with her weight. Her face was deadly pale.

He didn't have time to register his surroundings as he entered her apartment. He lowered her to the couch as she began to stir. A box of Kleenex was handy on the end-table so he grabbed one and began wiping the blood from her palm. The cut was shallow, barely breaking the skin, but it bled plenty.

Her eyes opened slowly, looking incredibly dark next to the paleness of her face. "I'm sorry."

"Good." The relief he felt didn't echo in his voice. "You should be."

She lay perfectly still, silently staring at the ceiling as he continued to clean her newest cut. She was fighting the sickness churning in her stomach, and she was disgusted at herself for showing him her inconvenient weakness a second time. She risked a glance at his face and saw the angry set of his mouth and the spark simmering behind his intense green eyes. She was sure he thought she was pathetic. She couldn't blame him. She absolutely agreed.

"You need a band-aid," he finally stated, balling the bloody tissue in his hand, out of her sight.

"They're in the medicine cabinet, the middle cupboard. The bathroom is the first door on the left."

Silently he left her.

Alone in the bathroom he gripped the edge of the counter and exhaled slowly before digging through her cabinet. His hands wanted to shake. He wished he could blame it on anger, but he knew it was because she had scared him.

Why was she being so stubborn? Why couldn't she just follow simple suggestions? Just crawl into bed and sleep after the night she'd put in, like any other rational person would have? Why in the world was she standing on top of a ladder, holding a razor blade? Now he _was_ angry. He could feel his temper simmering on the edge of his control.

What was she trying to prove? And to whom?

He yanked the box of band-aids out of the cabinet and shut the mirrored door with a little more force than was necessary. The rattle was somehow satisfying.

By the time he returned to Bella, she was sitting up. The color hadn't returned to her cheeks yet, but her eyes were more aware. She was watching him apprehensively.

"Lay back down," he ordered, still using his sharp, demanding tone.

"I'm fine now," she replied evenly. She reached for the band-aid to put in on herself, but he ignored her.

"Lay down," he repeated.

She frowned at him, but obeyed. His voice may have been sharp, but his touch was gentle as he smoothed the bandage against her palm. His hand lingered on hers for a moment as he considered her, a dark look on his face.

"What?" She finally broke the heavy silence, "Why do you look at me like that?"

"Like what?" He dropped her hand and looked down, busying himself with picking up the little white wrappings of the band-aid.

"Like you hate my guts," she propped herself up again without permission so that they would be more eye and eye, "And sorta like you looked when you kissed me and want to do it again," she added boldly, but quietly.

"Maybe I do," he replied just as quietly.

"Hate my guts?"

"No," His eyes dropped to linger on her mouth, "The second one."

"Oh." Her heart stuttered and then began beating in double time. The color finally rushed back into her cheeks. She dropped her eyes to her hands and needlessly smoothed the edge of her new bandage.

"Why?" It was little more than a whisper.

"I don't know," he replied, watching her. Then, without warning, he got to his feet.

Thinking he was getting ready to leave, she opened her mouth to thank him. Instead, she let out a yelp as he scooped her off the couch. "_What are you doing?"_

"You're going to bed," he informed her shortly. He paused in the hall, "Which door?"

"What makes you think you have the right to – "

"Which door?" he repeated.

"The one at the end," she surrendered grudgingly. "You're so pushy," she complained.

"And you're stubborn," he retorted, kicking open the door and dumping her on the bed. "What part of 'go home and get some sleep' is too complicated for you to understand?"

She sat up indignantly and prepared to throw her feet over the bed to get up. "I guess the part where I'm a grown-up and I'm capable of running my own life."

He caught her feet mid-swing and flipped off her slippers before shoving her feet back up onto the bed, "You need to sleep."

"I _need_ people to mind their own business," she shot back. She sat up again. "I need people to leave me alone and stop treating me like I'm so darn fragile."

"Aren't you?" he murmured as he stopped her feet from touching the ground a second time.

"NO!" Bella was now infuriated, the head-ache she felt brewing at the back of her neck only fueling her temper further.

"Contrary to popular belief, I'm not!" She sat up a third time, but made no move to get up off the bed. Edward counted it a small victory, even as she ranted.

"I realize that you don't know me very well, Edward Cullen, and I can see why you might draw that conclusion based on my behavior the last few days, but I'm _not_ weak. I don't enjoy falling on my face every time someone bleeds, but I can't help it, and it doesn't automatically mean I'm a wimp. I don't need everyone huddling around me all the time. I'm tired of it! I need to be left the heck alone!"

She was huffing now, and her eyes were sparking. Edward bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from smiling over the fact that, even in the heat of anger, she couldn't bring herself to swear.

"Alright," he finally replied when he was sure he wouldn't betray himself with a laugh, "I'll go then. You're free to fall off ladders because you're _exhausted_ in private. I won't interfere." Abruptly, he turned on his heel and left her alone.

She flopped back on her pillow, suddenly tired, but infuriated. She began a mental list of all of the reasons why she hated Edward Cullen, but before she could finish, she was fast asleep.


	17. Perspective

**A/N: Hey. Sorry this one took a little while. We've been in the process of moving so I've been ridiculously busy. There might be some gaps in upcoming chapters and I really apologize for that. I think you should know what going on in my real life so that you'll forgive me if things slow down. I'm pregnant. woot! I'm due in January, so I know I have to have this story wrapped by then because there's no way I'll be able to keep up with a new baby and a two year-old. Also, we're remodeling and my poor house is in shambles. And last, but not least, we're getting rid of our internet. It's too expensive. I'm going to keep writing, and I'll be posting from my parent's house. That's why it might be inconsistent. I hope you'll understand.**

**Thanks so much for the reviews, alerts, and favorites! Thanks to my beta Irritable Grizzzly! Now, on with the show!**

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**Perspective**

When Bella woke up, it was dark out. She stretched and turned over to read the display on her phone. It was after six. She'd slept all day. She realized that she must have needed it. She hadn't dreamed at all.

Still, she reminded herself, just because she'd needed it didn't mean that Edward Cullen had a right to break into her house and force her into bed. As she gathered up her things for a shower, she refused to admit to herself that she'd liked the feel of his strong arms when he carried her. The almost spice-like scent radiating off his jacket, his breath across her face…she might have, under different, more reasonable circumstances. Just who exactly did he think he was?

The hot water on her back felt so good that she let out an involuntary moan and was completely still for a few minutes letting it pelt her. She thought of Angela and Ben and wondered where they were now and how Ben was doing. Surely Angela would call her once they got settled; there was so much to say.

The nap and the shower went a long way toward making her feel more like herself. She decided to grab something to eat and then she'd spend the rest of the evening working on the painting for Billy. She'd started it for herself, but it was turning out so well that she wanted Billy to have it instead. She wanted to give it to him on Jacob's birthday.

She didn't bother to blow-dry her hair, but instead toweled it off and moved out into the hall. There she froze. Did she smell… was that bacon?

"Charlie?" It would be so like him to come by to check on her. She sighed. "Charlie? Is that you?"

"Nope," the all-too-familiar voice had her stopping in her tracks again. Taking a deep breath, she stormed around the corner. Edward was standing at the stove, looking smug and perfect, frying bacon and mixing eggs in a bowl. His response to her storming into the kitchen was to give her a crooked grin and ask, "Hungry?"

"What are you doing here? What makes you think you had the right to come back uninvited?"

He studied her for a long moment. She was huffing and puffing, her hands on her narrow hips, her face flushed. He wanted to eat her.

"Come back?" He expertly flipped an omelet onto a plate, and, still grinning, offered it to her. "What makes you think I ever left?"

Her mouth dropped open. "W – what?" Impatiently she pushed back the damp hair that had swung into her face. "You _stayed?_ All day?"

He nodded cheerfully. He'd had time for a lot of thinking while Bella slept. After he'd calmed down, he realized it was no use denying it. He was attracted to her. Extremely attracted. Despite the million reasons he'd had for trying to stay away from her, he found he couldn't fight it anymore. He didn't want to. He'd brought his past with him and now it was threatening her. He was responsible for everything she was going through now. He was going to protect her as best he could. They were stuck with each other. Edward decided to make the best of it, and maybe enjoy himself. Just a little.

"I bunked on your couch last night. I hope you don't mind." When she continued to stare blankly at him he nodded toward the table. "Sit. Eat. I promise I didn't poison anything."

"Wait," Bella put her hand up. "What do you mean you stayed on the couch all night, it's not even –"Her voice trailed off as she looked at the lightening sky out the kitchen window. "It's morning?" She finished blankly.

"Mmm-hmm." Edward was more than a little amused at her bewildered expression. "Six-fifty-three-a.m., and my mom always says you should start the day with a good breakfast. It's the most important meal of the day, so sit."

She did, if only to get oriented. She poked absently at the eggs on her plate. "So you stayed all day and all night?"

"Yep," He said, plopping down across from her and squirting ketchup enthusiastically over his eggs.

"Are you homeless?"

He let out a laugh at the dryness in her tone. She felt her mouth twitch, but fought back a smile.

"No. I just wanted to make sure you stayed put."

"Thank you, but I already have a father."

"And apparently you don't listen to him either. When he dropped in last night he was pretty upset with you when I told him what happened."

"Did you tell him you were planning to stay?" Bella inquired skeptically.

"Yeah," Edward swallowed a huge mouthful of eggs and reached for his coffee mug.

"And he didn't shoot you?"

Edward smiled smugly. "Nope, he seemed pretty happy about it. He said you wouldn't let him stay and watch over things, so he was glad I was here."

Bella reached for her mug as well, ignoring her plate. "Traitor," she muttered under her breath.

"Eat Bella." His mouth smiled, but his eyes were serious.

"You're so bossy," she said, trying to remain tough, but she realized she was starving and obeyed. "I can't believe I slept that long."

Edward shrugged. "You were exhausted."

"And I really can't believe you had the nerve to stay. I thought I made it clear that I didn't want you here."

"And I thought I made it clear that you should have been sleeping."

"When I do and don't sleep isn't really any of your business."

"It is when I think Arrow's trying to burn down your shop."

"Oh, so I'm supposed to put out a sign every time I want to work downstairs after hours?" Bella's knuckles were white as she gripped her fork, "How dare you break in like that! You scared me out of my mind!"

"I wouldn't have had to break in if you'd have done what were told."

"I'm not a child."

"Then stop acting like one. Eat your freaking breakfast."

"Don't tell me what to do."

Edward deliberately unclenched the fist he'd made and laid his hand flat on the table in an effort to relax. "Listen Bella," he worked to lower his voice, "I'm sorry about all of this. I brought it here, and I feel responsible for everything that's happened, and I'm going to feel responsible if there are any more fires. I have to do whatever I can to stop them. I'm not going to let them hurt you."

The even tone of his voice went a long way toward calming her. She let go of her fork and laid it on her plate, her appetite lost. She looked him directly in the eyes and matched her tone to his, "I appreciate the effort, but I can take care of myself."

Making a sound of disgust, he pushed back from the table and dragged a hand through his already-messy hair. He paced the kitchen impatiently. Finally he stopped and turned to her.

"Okay, look, I think we got off to a bad start."

"I agree," she said whole-heartedly.

"So I'd like to start over."

"Okay…" her skepticism was written clearly on her face.

"I have a meeting at the station in about an hour. Afterwards I'd like you to have lunch with me."

"Lunch with you," she repeated slowly.

He nodded.

"Would that be… like a date?"

He shrugged.

She mulled it over while she stirred her un-eaten eggs around her plate. She made her decision, "Maybe another time," she replied lightly, "I think I'll be pretty busy in the shop today."

He couldn't hide his smirk as he considered her. "It's Sunday, Bella." He was already reaching for his coat.

"It's… Sunday?"

"Yeah, and for future reference," he studied the thermometer hanging outside her kitchen window before he headed toward her front door, "it's forty-one degrees Fahrenheit, and you're in Forks, Washington."

"There's no need to be a smart a --"

"It's September," he continued, "And you're on the planet Earth." He closed the door neatly behind him before she could respond.

A short moment passed during which she glared at the place where he'd last stood. She'd just opened her mouth to call him a series of unflattering names when the door re-opened and he stuck his head back in.

"I'll be here for you at noon," he added, and, laughing at her expression, closed the door again without waiting for an answer.

She hopped up and flipped the dead-bolt behind him. She went back to her breakfast, trying to figure out how she'd just got tricked into a date with such an insufferable man, and begrudged the fact that he had an incredible laugh.

~E~

The station meeting lasted an hour and a half. Emmett had contacted Charlie directly and sent him photos of James and Arrow. He also informed him that he had an interview with James set up for the following morning and he'd contact them as soon as it was over.

After Edward received his new shift assignments, he went home to change. When he opened the front door he was met with the sound of Alice having a heated debate with someone over the phone.

When he came around the corner he found her lounging on the couch with the phone tucked under her chin and each of her hands were fisted in her spiky black hair, a sure sign of annoyance. She ignored him as he stood in the doorway.

"I'm fine." She waited impatiently while the other person spoke.

"Well I wouldn't have even told you if I knew you were going to react this way - like you don't trust me at all." More silence as she dropped her hands and then propped the phone up with one of them.

"No I can't do that," she insisted calmly. Again she waited, "Well I'm sorry Jasper, but you're just going to have to trust me." She sighed as she listened. "Alright, yeah, I'll call you tomorrow." She heard his response and couldn't fight the smile, "I love you too, but I don't like you right now either. Bye." She dropped the phone on the cushion next to her and groaned.

Edward walked over and plopped across from her in a chair. "Jasper?"

She glared at the phone beside her, "Yeah. I told him what's going on. He wants me to come home."

"Good. You should."

She shot him a dark look, "And leave Bella to fend for herself?"

"Bella has plenty of people looking after her."

"She needs a girlfriend right now. I can help her with her shop."

"You could also go home and make your boyfriend and little brothers feel better."

Alice's response to that was to declare, "Men are idiots."

"Maybe," Edward considered, and then stood up with more enthusiasm than normal. Alice was instantly suspicious, she just didn't know why. "I'm going up to shower and then I have to go."

"Go?" Alice eyed him, "You just got back."

"I have a date." He said it easily as he reached the foot of the stairs.

Alice was on her feet in an instant. "A date?" she asked incredulously, "A real, actual date? Like, with a girl and everything?"

He glared at her as she approached him, "Well that's flattering."

Alice grinned, "You have a date with Bella." It wasn't a question. "You asked Bella Swan on a date!" The last few words were more like squeals.

"Well, I didn't ask her exactly."

She quirked an eyebrow at him.

"It was more like, well, I guess you could say I told her we had a date."

She shook her head sadly as he mounted the stairs, "And I thought I raised you better than that."

~B~

Bella hadn't been on a date in over four years. Her hair had air-dried in a wavy, fluffy mess around her face, her mascara bottle was dried up, and she didn't have a clue what to wear. Edward would be there in less than forty-five minutes. She was trying not to panic.

As was her usual habit, she'd gotten lost in a painting and forgotten the time. She could admit that it had been worth it. She'd finished Billy's painting of Jacob and it was perfect. They dark eyes staring out from the canvas were life-like, and his toothy grin was just right. It was so perfect, in fact, that after it was finished she'd had to spend a good twenty minutes crying over it. She could hardly wait to give it to Jacob's dad. She knew what it would mean to him.

But now her eyes were red and puffy, adding to the overall effect.

She was being ridiculous, she told herself, after the fifth outfit change. It wasn't as though she'd _never _been on a date. She'd gone out plenty of times before the accident, with all sorts of people. She'd usually managed to have a good time.

That was years ago, she reminded herself. She'd been a teenager then, and she was a woman now. This was a grown-up date.

As she gazed hopelessly at the disaster that was her reflection, she didn't feel much like a grown-up.

She finally gave up and donned her favorite pair of dark jeans that didn't have paint stains on them, and a creamy turtleneck sweater. She threw her long brown sweater over her arm and headed toward the bathroom to give her best effort at damage control. As she passed a window she noticed one of the three Forks police cruisers roll by slowly, as they had every twenty minutes since breakfast. Charlie meant business when it came to surveillance.

She fought her hair into a fluffy knot at the base of her neck. She hoped that the tendrils of hair that had escaped looked trendy, rather than messy. She wasn't prone to wearing make-up, and wasn't ever sure what to do with it, so she settled for a little bit of brown eye-shadow and some lip-gloss to complete the look. She ran downstairs to the shop and dug through the jewelry inventory until she found the necklace she'd had her eye on. It was a long assortment of creamy glass, and dark wooden beads that she had to loop around her neck twice. She had just finished fixing the earrings when she heard the knock at the front entrance.

Edward was smiling at her through the front window as she walked toward the door to let him in. His hair was sort of combed and the green sweater he wore made his eyes look fiercely the same color. Her stomach began doing flips.

"I sort of just expected you to break in," she greeted him as she stepped back to let him in the store.

"It crossed my mind." He was watching her intently. It was making her extremely self-conscious.

She smoothed her hair unnecessarily and shut the door behind him. "I, um, I just need to get my purse. It's upstairs."

She began to move toward the back of the store, fidgeting with her necklace as she went. "You're welcome to come up… or you can wait. I'll just be a minute." Why was he making her so flustered?

He took a deliberate step toward her and placed both hands on her shoulders to stop her from moving away. "First of all, relax," he smiled at her and tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ears. She felt goose-bumps erupt in all of the nearby areas of her body.

"Second of all," his face was coming closer. Before she could register what was happening his lips were gently pressed against hers. She was enveloped in his scent, the coolness of his skin from being outside, the feel of his hands as the moved up to her neck, and then again to cup her face. Just as swiftly as his lips had come, they pulled back.

He left his hands against her neck, "Hi." He smiled, studying her.

The breath she'd been holding came out in a quick gust. "Hi." She replied dazedly.

"And I'll come up to wait," he finished.

"Right," her heart was pounding in her head, her pulse a buzzing in her ears.

"Uh, there's one thing I need to do first."

"Okay."

He was stepping back and placing his hands in his pockets to keep from touching her again. Her smell, the feel of her skin, the response in her eyes, had been even more potent than they'd been the first time he'd spontaneously kissed her. He needed some distance or he feared he'd move on her too quickly. He knew, from her bewildered expression, that she wasn't ready for him.

"Do whatever you need to do, there's no hurr–"

She ran to him and threw her arms around his neck. Her mouth sought his with an urgency she hadn't known was brewing inside of her. With one simple kiss, he'd ignited a fire that she couldn't contain. She craved more.

He couldn't catch his breath. She was everywhere. Her hands were fisted in his hair, her lips, so soft, were pressed firmly, moving in unison with his own. Her scent was surrounding him, drowning him. He had no choice but to respond. He had no control. He realized in that hazy, desperate moment, that maybe it was he who wasn't ready for her.

She was the first to come to her senses. The hand against her back was moving toward the hem of her sweater. She knew in another moment she wouldn't be able to, so she pulled away.

"I'm sorry," her breathless voice snapped him back. They were moving too fast. She was amazing. No, he was moving to fast.

Breathing heavily, they considered each other. His arms were still tight around her waist, and her hands were lightly fisted against his chest. Neither of them made any move to put distance between them.

"I'm sorry," she repeated. Color flooded her cheeks when she realized she'd just thrown herself at him. Why couldn't she control herself? What was it about him that had her loathing him one minute, and needing him desperately the next?

"Don't be," he tried to lighten the mood. He wasn't used to the feelings that were rolling through him. He hadn't expected them. "If memory serves, I think I kissed you first."

She smiled and made the move to step away. He loosened his hold on her.

"Edward," she was twisting the necklace again, "what are we doing?" There was fear, excitement, and confusion in her tone.

This time he did shove his hands into his pockets, as deep as they would go. "You're going upstairs to get your purse, and then I'm taking you to lunch."

"No, I mean – "

"I know what you meant." His eyes were intense as he paused to search her face, "and I'm not sure."

"It's just that, well, you should know that I'm not good at this. I mean, I don't do this."

"Do what?"

"Have men in my apartment, go on dates," she paused, and when she blushed again. He wanted to inhale her, "kiss… people."

"You're fine," he smiled, "It's been awhile for me too."

"Really?" For some reason, she was reassured by his admission.

He nodded.

"Okay."

"But maybe we should slow down a little anyway."

"Okay," she repeated, but the prospect wasn't as pleasant as it should have been.

She went to go get her purse and he looked around at the many easels that adorned her living room/studio. He'd noticed the painting the night before. It had been an eye-less face then, of a young man who seemed to be of Native American or Latino descent. He realized it was now finished, and he studied it closely.

The eyes looked out of the painting with an open, friendly expression. The face was young, maybe early twenties, and seemed to be laughing. There was something life-like and compelling about it. It showed the true depth and scope of Bella's talent. He was awed.

He saw that she'd signed it differently than the ones that hung in her shop. Those were signed "Bella Swan" and dated. This one was simply signed "Bella" with no date to mark it. In smaller letters just below the signature it was titled, "Jake."

So this was Jacob, Bella's childhood friend. The one who'd died. He could see her feelings for him transferred onto the canvas with each of her careful brush strokes. He realized with a jolt that she'd loved this boy. Deeply.

She came out of her room quietly, her purse slung over her shoulder, to find him studying her painting of Jacob. His brow was narrowed, and his eyes, as always, were intense. His perfect mouth was sober as he stood motionlessly and studied her work. She wondered what he saw when he looked at it.

She came to stand next to him. "I'm ready."

He nodded toward the painting. "You just finished this?"

"This afternoon," she said, still not being able to look at it for long without fighting tears. She didn't know how to explain it to him. "It's… it's of a friend of mine. He died."

He watched the tears fill her eyes and put an arm around her shoulders. "I know. George told me a little. You don't have to talk about it."

She could only nod. It took her a moment to regain her composure. She fisted the tears from her cheeks. "I'm giving it to his dad in a couple of weeks, on Jake's birthday."

He pulled her closer, "He'll be lucky to have it."

"Thanks," she pushed at the new tears on half-a-laugh, "Can we go now?" she asked.

He smiled down at her. "Yeah, we can go. Do you like Italian?"

"Mmmm-hmmm," She pulled on her long sweater and led the way toward the stairs.

"Good, Alice says there's a place in Port Angeles that's supposed to be good. Well, in her words, '_amazing_.'"

She nodded, "They have one of the best mushroom dishes in the state."

"Great, I'm starving."

She tried to put thoughts of Jake aside for now as she shut off the light, locked the door, and headed out on her first date in over four years.

~A~

It was infuriating to realize that they weren't taking it seriously enough. That became apparent the moment they wandered out of Bella's apartment as though they didn't have a care in the world.

Angrily he pulled out his cell phone and hit her number. "Are we ready?" he demanded when she picked up.

"Nearly. The girl just left."

"Good," he was flipping the lid of his silver lighter, open and shut, open and shut. "I think it's past time to raise the stakes. She's distracted."

Her delighted chuckle made him relax a little. "I can't wait."

"Be ready. I'll be home in an hour."


	18. Silhouette

**A/N: Hey! I'm still here, and still writing. Don't worry.**

**This is the chapter I've been most anxious to post. Finally some things come to light... or maybe not. You decide.**

**Thanks for all of the reviews, favs, and alerts. I love them all. Thanks to my beta, Irritable Grizzzly. xoxo**

**Now read!**

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Silhouette

Alice had yet to see the ocean, so she thought it was high time she got herself to the beach. It was shameful that she'd been in Forks for almost a month and yet she hadn't spent even a second at the shore. She knew it wasn't anything special. No white sand and blue water. It would be all chilly winds and gray – everything, and she very much expected to get wet, but she'd lived her whole life in Chicago and opportunities like this didn't come often.

Besides, she knew from books and movies that there was no better place to brood than a stormy, quiet beach, and brooding was exactly what she was in the mood for.

Jasper was worried about her, and giving her a hard time about it. She needed time to think, so that the next time they spoke, she could be more understanding. She needed to try and see things from his perspective, and if that didn't work, she needed to know what to say to make him see things from hers. So she packed herself a picnic, got in her car, and followed the signs to Second Beach.

At least, she started to, until she remembered ten minutes into her trip that her umbrella was still tucked away in the entry closet. Sighing, but laughing at herself, she turned the car around and headed back to retrieve it.

As she approached the house, she at first sensed, rather than saw, that she wasn't alone. A small figure in dark clothes was dashing around the unattached garage behind the house.

A little unnerved, but not overly concerned, Alice stopped the car and stepped out. There weren't many houses close to theirs, but Alice hadn't taken the time to get to know the neighbors. She assumed this person was one of them, as she didn't see a car.

"Hello?" Alice crunched across the wet gravel toward the place where the figure had disappeared. "Hello?" She repeated a little louder, feeling increasingly uneasy. "May I help you with something?"

There was no answer, no footsteps, not a sound. Alice stood still a little longer, listening. After a moment she shrugged and decided maybe she'd imagined it. She'd only seen a glimpse after all, and through a wet windshield at that. It could have even been an animal. Her imagination was always working overtime.

Anxious to be back on the road, she headed into the house for her umbrella and let her mind drift back to Jasper.

~B&E~

The ambiance of the restaurant made Edward smile. It was just trying too hard. There were big posters of old Italian advertisements, the music was just a little too loud and desperately Italian, and the tall leather boots the serving staff wore were more tacky than sophisticated. The food was good though, and Bella seemed to be enjoying herself.

"My whole family likes to drive fast," he was explaining when she criticized his speeding habits. "Don't you?"

She used her fork to point at herself and said by way of an explanation, "Daughter of a cop here."

He laughed, "Oh, right."

"So how big is your family anyway?" she asked through a forkful of pasta.

"One brother, Emmett, and then there's Alice. Emmett is married and I'm guessing Alice will be soon as well." He rolled his eyes. "So it just seems to keep growing."

"You're all close." She didn't say it as a question.

"Yeah."

"That's nice. I always wanted a big family, but I would have settled for a sister."

"No siblings?"

She shook her head, "The pack has always made me feel like I have plenty of brothers, and since I grew up living with my dad, I've always felt surrounded by guys." She laughed. "So I thought a sister would be nice."

Edward frowned, confused, "The Pack?"

"Oh, sorry," She was so comfortable with him that she was forgetting she'd only known him a handful of days. She felt like he must know everything about her. "'The Pack' is what I call the Quileute boys. My dad's lived here his whole life, so he grew up with a lot of the men in the tribe. I grew up with their sons," She shrugged and reached for her Coke. "They're like my brothers."

"No girls?"

"Not my age. Well, there's one," she corrected and wrinkled her nose, "Leah Clearwater."

He smiled at her expression. "Not a fan, I take it."

"Nope. She was a girly-girl, sort of a brat. She always hated my guts because I could keep up with the pack and she couldn't. She thought I should be painting my nails instead of playing paint-ball, getting my ears pierced instead of cliff-diving –"

Edward choked on his drink and interrupted. He cleared his throat and stared at her. "Cliff-diving?"

She grinned at his expression and said matter-of-factly, "Sure. Ever tried it?"

"No." He shook his head. "I don't plan to either."

"Oh, come on," she laughed, "It's fun."

"I believe you, but I'll pass."

"Chicken."

"No, I just don't do heights."

"Bawk, bawk, bawk," she folded her arms at the elbows and waved them up and down.

He laughed, "How old are you?"

She dropped her arms, smiling. "Sorry. But it's really not scary. Cliff-diving is awesome."

"And what would you know about it?"

A young man, tall and dark, came up behind Bella's chair and laid a hand on her shoulder, "You've only ever gone off the baby rocks."

Bella turned in surprise, and Edward watched as her face lit up. She was out of her chair in a delighted instant.

"Embry!" She threw her arms around the stranger and laughed as she kissed his cheek. "When did you get back? I didn't even know you were here!"

Embry grinned and let her go, but kept an arm draped over one shoulder as they spoke. Edward felt a tightening, a jolt of something in the pit of his stomach. He didn't know what it was, but he didn't like it or the new guy Bella seemed so thrilled to have draped himself all over her.

"This morning," they were grinning at each other. "I had to come here first because I had some great shots for the magazine."

"Have you seen the others?" Bella seemed to be vibrating with excitement. Edward felt forgotten.

"Just Seth right when I got back. Everyone else was off at work or something. I was coming to see you next. I heard the shop is really taking off. I'm so proud of you, Bella."

She blushed and smiled, "Thanks."

"But I'm interrupting," Embry said. He remembered Edward before Bella did. A fact that didn't go unnoticed by Edward.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Embry this is Edward Cullen. He just moved here from Chicago. He's working with Quil at the station. Edward, this is Embry, he lives in Hawaii now. He thinks he's a big-shot surfer, and he's one of The Pack."

Embry let go of Bella's shoulders and reached a hand across the table, "Nice to meet you."

Edward tried to paste a smile on his face and returned the handshake, "You too."

"I overheard Bella trying to talk you into cliff-diving. You really should try it. In fact, we're having a bonfire Friday night. You could meet the rest of the boys. We'll roast some 'mallows, do a couple of dives… You should come."

"I'll think about it." Edward murmured noncommittally.

"Do that." Embry gave Bella one last one-armed hug and kissed the side of her head.

"I gotta go. I'll catch up with you later though, okay?"

"Yeah, come by the shop sometime. Bye Embry."

"Later Bells," he said as he strutted off and Bella took her chair again. The smile on her face was radiant.

"It's so great to see him. He only comes home a couple of times a year. I've missed him lately. It sucks when everyone grows up and moves away. Only half the kids from high-school are still around, and…" it wasn't until then that she caught his expression.

"What?"

"Nothing." He tried to shake the envy he felt. He was being juvenile and he knew it. "Are you going to this bonfire?"

She frowned and nodded, "Yeah. We do it every year. It's sort of a tradition." She paused and stared down at her lap for a moment, "You really don't have to come."

"You don't want me to?"

"No! No, it's not that." She shifted uncomfortably. "It's just that, well, it's sort of this thing we do around Jake's birthday every year. We tell stories about him and talk about old memories and stuff. It'll probably be boring."

"Bella," He reached for her hand across the table, noting the troubled look in her eyes, "If it will make you uncomfortable for me to be there, I'll understand. You can just say it."

"It's not that." She fumbled with her words as she looked at his hand on hers. "It's…" She finally got the nerve to meet his eyes. They were steady and kind on hers. She couldn't help but be open with him. "I like you… a lot, and I… I'm just confused about it, I guess."

"It's OK to be confused. I'm confused too."

She smiled. "Also, Jake's bonfire is really personal and everyone will be there. I'll probably cry. I always do. It'll be really embarrassing."

He fought back a smile. "So, you don't want me to come because you like me and you don't want me to see you cry?" His hand was wide and firm as it tightened on hers. "I think I can handle it. I'd like to come and meet your friends."

"Alright," she agreed, nodding. She was glad she was honest with him and felt good they were making so much progress with communicating. "So what does your brother's wife do?"

~*~

When they returned to his car a little while later, she was still asking questions. His Volvo was warm and filled with his scent. He adjusted settings as she climbed in, turning the stereo down and the heat up. Something smooth and classical was drifting through the speakers.

He motioned to the iPod that was tucked in one of the cup holders. "You can change it to whatever you want," he invited, "I know Debussy isn't everyone's favorite."

She listened for a moment; the familiar, soothing music was relaxing her. "No, I like it. Claire de Lune is great."

He stared at her blankly, long enough to make her a little uncomfortable. She tried to smile and shrugged uncomfortably, "What?"

He shook himself and turned to start the car, as though he hadn't meant to study her so intently. "You just keep surprising me." he said it mostly to himself, and then quickly changed the subject.

"Is there a gas station on the way?" he asked as he smoothly maneuvered the car away from the curb.

"Yeah, just outside of town on the main road."

"Alright, we'll have to stop there first, unless you'd rather hitch-hike back to Forks."

She smiled. "Mmmm, no. I'm too full for that."

"The place was pretty good."

"Pretty good?" she laughed, "It's my favorite."

"I'll take you to a real Italian place sometime and you can see what you've been missing."

She felt a little twinge of excitement over the fact that he'd hinted this wouldn't be their last date together. She sighed inwardly. She was being pathetic.

"Yeah, I know it's not fancy, but it's the only Italian we have around here. It's small and over-priced and tacky," she sighed happily, "and I just can't get enough of it."

They drove a few minutes in companionable silence, watching the wipers on the windshield and letting the music float around them.

"The station is right up here." Bella directed at length, "It's on the left after the next turn."

"Alright."

He slowed the car and flipped the blinker. The station was small, with only two bays, but both were deserted. There was a tiny run-down convenience store attached.

Edward hopped out and set the nozzle, then he opened his door and leaned in. "Sorry," he apologized to Bella, "I've got to run in and get some cash."

"It's no problem," she smiled and shrugged, "I'll be right here."

He ran through the rain to the front door of the store. The bell chimed as he took in his surroundings. It was dingy, deserted, and carried the lingering smell of smoke. Edward spotted a scrawny blond kid behind the counter and headed toward him.

"Hey man, could I get change for a fifty?"

"Sure," he nodded.

Up close, Edward realized the man was older than his first impression. He estimated that the guy was in his late twenties; greasy, but friendly enough.

"What kind of bills?"

"Twenties and a ten's fine."

Edward watched him pull bills from the register and noticed his hands were shaking slightly when he handed the bills over. He glanced up from the hands and for a brief instant and felt as though he were being sized up.

The intensity immediately left the man's eyes and was replaced with a smile.

"Are you passing through?"

"No, I just moved here from Chicago."

He grinned in reply, "And how are you enjoying our weather?"

"It sucks," Edward replied bluntly, earning a laugh. He held up the change, "Thanks a lot."

The man surprised him by offering his hand. "No problem, man. It's Alec, by the way. I'm sure we'll run into each other again."

"Edward," he replied, and wondered if the odd glint in Alec's eyes and the trembling hands had anything to do with drugs. There was something sort of pathetic about him.

He felt Alec's eyes on him as he walked out. Then Edward's phone buzzed in his pocket, and he didn't think of the jittery man again.

~J~

Rage is my biggest enemy. I recognize the signs and I still can't seem to control myself. It sets in without warning, and my vision gets all red and sometimes I even forget what I'm doing. The rage controls me.

I hate to be controlled.

My mother used to control me. I got my rage from her and I hated her for it. She paid though. My brother and I made sure that she paid.

Everyone will pay who separated us from our father. My brother says it will take time and patience and planning. He says I need to channel my anger to help me control it.

Our plans got interrupted and now I can feel the rage clawing at my control. I'm going back to finish what I started and I hope nothing else gets in my way. I don't know what I'll do if that happens.

~EY~

Eric Yorkie was laughing at himself as he trudged along the empty road hauling a gas can. This wasn't exactly how he envisioned his triumphant return to his small home-town. Of course, he wished it was under happier circumstances, but he had sort of been looking forward to pulling up to the diner in his shiny new Porsche 911 Turbo.

He remembered Angela's call the day before. The fear in his gut when she told him what had happened to Ben, and the relief he felt when she assured him that Ben would be alright. He didn't hesitate to offer to go home and make sure loose ends were tied up at Ben's job. They were in the same business, after-all.

However, while Ben was content to write for small town papers, Eric had his sights set on bigger things. He was happily writing for the Seattle Times at the moment. His assignments were big, and so was his lofty apartment. Seattle was big enough to curb his craving for big city life.

Still, he couldn't forget his roots, nor could he ignore his need to help his friend. He knew deep down that Ben was a better journalist, and that he'd done everything in his power to help Eric get his first position in the business. Just because Ben was content to do small stories for small papers, didn't mean that his work wasn't important. Eric knew what Ben's job meant to him, and he was happy to help.

Plus, the journalist in him felt the need to get to the bottom of whatever was going on in his hometown.

The rain didn't bother him. Living in Washington his whole life made him immune to it. He was enjoying the walk, and was looking forward to seeing his old friends and catching up. He was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn't see the girl until he was right on top of her.

Her eyes were dark, unnervingly striking against her pale complexion and blond hair. She was walking toward him, her head bent, but those eyes were boring into his. Her raincoat was dark, and the hood was pulled down. He grinned when he saw the gas can she carried. He held up his own in greeting.

"Coming or going?" he asked.

She smiled, but only with her mouth. The rest of her face remained expressionless.

"I'm not sure." She didn't blink as she stared at him, "You?"

He shook the gas-can to show that it was empty. "I think the station is farther up here than I remember." He couldn't decide how old she was, and couldn't remember seeing another car on the shoulder. "Where's your car?"

She lied quickly and easily. "I thought it was just here, but I think it got towed or something."

"Is your can full?"

"Mmm-hmm," she sloshed the liquid around to prove it.

"I'll tell you what then, why don't we walk back to my car. It's a couple of miles back, and then I'll drive you to wherever you need to go."

She tried to keep her breathing even as she fought for control. This would interfere with her plans. This wasn't going to work, but she didn't know what else to do. Turning him down might seem suspicious. Besides, he seemed like a real do-gooder and would probably insist. She hated busy-bodies.

"Alright," she agreed, "Thank you."

"No, thank _you_." He held out his hand, "Eric Yorkie."

She recognized the name from The Times and cringed inwardly, even as she received his handshake with a charming smile.

"I'm Jane," she told him. It wasn't like he'd live to tell anyone.

He motioned up the road, "Shall we, Jane?" She nodded and fell into step beside him.

She kept herself in check for the two miles that they walked back to his car. It wasn't until he started to reach for the gas can that the rage took over and she lost control. It wasn't until she was lighting the match that she realized her mistake.

Alec wouldn't be happy.


	19. Charcoal

**A/N: Hey! So... this is probably my last update for a while. I'm sorry to leave you hanging this way, but my baby is due in about a week and I have so many other things I need to be doing. Thank you so, so, so much for reading this fic and for all of the favs, alerts, and reviews. I love them and you. xoxoxo**

**Thanks always to Irritable Grizzzly, my beta.**

* * *

Charcoal

Edward was still on his cell when he climbed back into the car. He pushed his hair back and drops of rainwater sprinkled the shoulders of his jacket.

"So why are you calling now if you thought it was nothing?"

He switched ears and tucked the phone into his shoulder so that he could start the car. Bella noticed how smoothly he moved as she admired his profile. He was safely distracted by his call so she could watch him as closely as she wanted.

He laughed. "You're crazy," he paused and grinned. "Yeah, yeah I'll go look," he paused again, then said a little exasperatedly, "Yes, I'll call you after… No problem… Bye."

"Everything okay?" Bella asked as he flipped his phone closed and shoved it impatiently in his pocket.

"You always wanted a sister right?"

He pulled out of the station and eased back onto the main road.

"Yeah," she said slowly.

"Good. You can have mine. She's insane." He smiled as he said it, but something in his voice told her he might be a little worried.

"Do you mind if we stop by my place really fast? Alice was just there and she thinks she saw someone lurking around."

Bella sat up straighter, "Really?"

"She thought it was nothing at first, but after thinking about it, she had a 'feeling,'" he rolled his eyes.

"She gets this way sometimes. She's at the beach and says she can't come home until someone's checked it out."

"It it'll give her peace of mind, we should do it."

"Thanks. It won't take long."

Edward was about to turn onto a small wooded road just outside of town when Bella's hand on his arm stopped him.

"Look at that." She pointed to a tall plume of smoke rising out of the trees just ahead.

"I don't like it," he said and pulled to the shoulder. "I'm going to take a look."

"I'll go with you," she said, already opening the door and pulling her sweater tighter around her.

"No, you stay here. I'll just go look around and come right back. If it's anything, we'll call it in, but it's probably nothing. It's too wet to turn into a forest fire."

He pulled his hood up and popped his door open. Bella ignored him and got out.

"I'm coming," she insisted."

"You'll get soaked."

Edward couldn't explain his unease, but it was there, throbbing in his gut like a warning. He wanted Bella to wait in the car, but was discovering that she had a stubborn streak.

"So will you, and I'm used to it."

She began walking up the shoulder toward where the smoke was leaking through the trees.

He sighed and opened the back door to get the spare raincoat that was lying on the floor, damp and wrinkled. He grabbed it and hurried after her.

"At least put this on."

She was already colder than she wanted to admit, so she obeyed, and pulled the hood up. They were close now. Edward moved toward the trees looking for a way through.

"Up here." Bella was a few yards ahead of him. "There are tire tracks, like a car drove through recently."

"Wait Bella." He ran to catch up with her, "Just slow down, alright? Maybe you should get behind me."

She rolled her eyes, but slowed. The car was already in sight. Where the paint was still shiny, it glinted through the trees, shadowed by the plume of black smoke rising from the far side.

"Nice car," she commented as he came up.

Edward whistled through his teeth, "I'll say. What a waste."

Bella turned to him, "So what do we do now, Mr. Fireman?"

"You stay here and call," he handed her his phone, "while I to try to figure out what happened."

He hurried forward and was staggered by the sudden and overwhelming scent of gasoline. He slowed and approached cautiously. There didn't appear to be any active flame, just a lot of smoke. He peered through the windows first, and was relieved when he saw the car was empty. The smoke was coming from the opposite side, so he trudged through the damp underbrush and around to the driver's side.

Bella was suddenly behind him.

"No service," she said, handing the phone back. "It's hard to get a signal through here."

He took the phone and tucked it back into his coat.

"I thought I said to stay back."

"Relax," she said as she urged him forward with a nod of her head, "It'll be fine. No one's in there, right?"

"Right." He started to go around the car again. "Whoever was in the car must've gotten a ride out, or maybe they walked into town. It doesn't look like – "

He froze in his tracks as he got a view of the smoke's origin. "Turn around Bella." It wasn't a request this time, but an order. "Go back to my car now."

He tried to step to the side to block her view, but when he turned around to face her, he saw that it was already too late. The color was gone from her face, and her eyes were wide with horror.

He took her arm firmly so she would look away from the smoldering body and focus on him. When her eyes met his, were wide and glassy with shock.

"Bella, I need you to go back to my car."

"It's Yorkie," she said on a shaky whisper. "It's Yorkie."

"You know who that is?" Edward felt her shoulders trembling beneath his grasp.

"It's Eric Yorkie, from high school. He lives in Seattle."

He absorbed this information while he tried to decide what to do next.

"Okay listen, we have to go back to the car and go get help," he spoke slowly and deliberately as he willed her eyes to stay on his, and not drift back to the nightmare.

She nodded, her eyes stayed on his face, wide and dark against the pallor of her skin.

"Okay."

He took her arm and they made their way away from the burning body on the forest floor. Edward didn't know the guy, but he knew that the eyes, still wide in terror and pain, would stay with him.

Bella moved mechanically, placing one foot in front of the other and trying not to slip on the wet leaves. It felt wrong to leave Eric smoking in the woods. He would be etched into her memory forever. Not as the class clown with the wide-grin and the laptop always attached to his hip, but the black and twisted smoking corpse. One outstretched arm was intact, like his horrified face, while the rest of him smoked and burned.

She barely noticed when they were out of the trees and Edward was leading her down the shoulder toward his car. She stopped, suddenly ill, and bent over. Edward gripped her shoulders to hold her up while she lost her dinner in the bushes.

"Come on baby," he said as he gripped her around the waist, and half-carried her the rest of the way to his car. He didn't like her color, or the glassy sheen in her eyes. He pulled open her door and eased her onto the seat. Her movements were jerky and mechanical.

"Put your head down and take deep breaths," he instructed, recognizing all the symptoms of shock. Automatically, she obeyed.

He ran around to the driver's side, and had the car back on the road in record time. Bella kept her head down, and neither of them spoke as he urged the car through the rain and into town.

He squealed up to the station and yanked on the parking brake. Bella hadn't moved. He couldn't see her face, only her trembling shoulders and damp hood. He placed a gentle hand on her back.

"I'll be right back Bella, will you be alright?"

Her head nodded mutely.

"Okay, stay put."

He hated to leave her there, but knew the importance of getting the police to the scene as soon as possible.

He tore into the station and ran straight to Charlie's office.

"What is it?" Charlie was pushing back his chair and was on his feet in an instant.

"There's been a murder – no – a death," Edward stopped just inside. "I need a map. I'll show you where."

Charlie grabbed his coat and led back to the front entrance. He yanked a map from behind the desk and unfolded it.

"Okay, here," Edward pointed, "mile marker 64. It's a yellow car and it's near the road so you'll probably see the smoke. Bella says the dead man is Eric Yorkie."

"Bella? Bella saw him?" His eyes were sharp, his voice concerned.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. I tried to keep her in the car. I'll stay with her and give you the whole story later."

"Alright, yeah, I have to get there."

He pulled his radio out of its holster and began issuing instructions on his way out to the cruiser.

Edward dashed back to his Volvo. Bella was leaning back now, with her head against the headrest. Her color hadn't improved. He pulled open her door and leaned in.

"I'm taking you home. Can you walk?"

She nodded and turned toward him. He gripped her elbow and helped her down. Silently they made their way across the street to the shop entrance. She fumbled for her keys and let them in. They went through the shop and up to her apartment. She flipped the lights on automatically and then stood still, as if she wasn't sure what to do next.

"Bella?" He placed a hand on her shoulder, feeling helpless. He wished he knew what to do for her.

When she looked at him, her eyes were dark and wide. She looked so vulnerable.

"Give me your coat, and then let's sit down," he decided, "alright?"

She nodded and let him help her out of his raincoat. She was trying to focus, to think beyond the dead eyes and blackened corpse in her mind's eye. She couldn't seem to.

He led her to the couch and she obediently sat down.

"Do you want something to drink?" he asked.

She shook her head. He sat down across from her.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

She bit her lip as she looked at him, and shook her head. She didn't want to talk about it. She didn't want to _think _about it, but couldn't turn off her mind. She looked around the room for something distracting, and her eyes fell on Jake's portrait. Inexplicably her eyes filled. Something about the familiar face, a face that was frozen in the past, pushed her over the edge. She curled her legs up into the chair, dropped her head into her hand, and fell completely apart.

He went to her. Before his mind even registered that he'd moved he was out of his chair and beside her. He held her against his chest and let her tears stain his shirt.

"I'm so sorry."

He couldn't think of what else to say, so he simply held on, rubbed her back, and let her cry it out.

She left her head on his chest, even after the tears stopped. She felt exhausted, totally drained and uncharacteristically weak. She knew she should also feel self-conscious for putting Edward in such an uncomfortable position, but she couldn't seem to work up the energy. She always seemed to be falling apart in front of him.

"I'm sorry," she apologized.

His response was simply to hold her closer. He wished there was more he could do. He knew what it felt like to have a burning corpse of someone you knew seared into your memory. He'd never known before how grateful he was that he never had to see Tanya's face. He wished he could somehow wipe away the image for Bella.

"It's his eyes," she whispered, her thoughts mirroring his. "I can't get his eyes out of my mind."

"Try not to think about it." He leaned his face down into her hair. "Try to remember him the way he looked before."

They were quiet for a long time. Edward began to hope that she would simply fall asleep. She needed it. Then she broke the silence.

"He had these Converse shoes," she began. "We were all wearing them back then, but these…" she paused, and when she continued there was a smile in her voice, "these were, like, the ugliest shoes you can imagine."

"All Converse are ugly," Edward pointed out, and earned a half-hearted slap on the shoulder.

"Hey, I still wear mine."

"Sorry," he chuckled and rubbed her back, "keep going."

"Well, Eric thought they were awesome. They were custom-made and he ordered them online. This was before most of us had the internet. He liked to brag about how much they cost. He knew we all just got ours in Port Angeles, you know, like normal people. His were red, which would have been fine, but they were covered in tiny orange and yellow flames."

"That sounds hideous."

"I know!" she laughed. "Anyway, it was spring break and we were all down at First Beach. Eric was so proud of his stupid shoes that he wore them to the beach so he could show the Quileute kids. He was driving everyone crazy. If any of us told him they were ugly, he told us we were just jealous. The sad part was he actually believed it.

"Jacob finally decides he's had enough, and he tells me to get Eric to take his shoes off and go for a swim. I was supposed to distract him, but Jake wouldn't tell me why.

"I got Eric into the water and managed to keep him there for a little while. Then we got cold and went back. Eric couldn't find his shoes anywhere. He was really, really mad. He asked _everyone, _but no one seemed to know where they were. Jake had an amazing poker face, and he even managed to get Eric to consider the possibility that some animals ran off with them," Bella chuckled.

"So where were they really?" Edward wanted to keep her talking, but he was also enjoying the story.

"Jake wouldn't tell me for a few days. He thought I might feel sorry for Eric and tell him, but eventually he admitted to burying them."

Edward snorted.

"Jake was terrible like that," he could tell she was still smiling, "but he believed it was in everyone's best interest, and that he was doing Yorkie a favor."

"I have to agree with him."

"Me too," Bella sighed and they lapsed into silence again.

This time Edward was first to break it, "Are you hungry?"

She sat up, and he finally got to see her face. Her eyes still bore the marks of tears, but her color was close to normal.

"No, I'm not, but you probably are. I'm sorry. I've been a terrible host." She pressed her hands to her face, drying what was left of her tears.

"I'm fine." Edward put a hand on her shoulder. "You don't have to get up."

She turned to him. "Thanks for staying."

"No problem." He reached up to touch her face.

"I feel better now. You're good at distractions."

"Am I?" he murmured, his hand lingering on her neck beneath her ear. Her skin tingled there. His eyes were steady on hers and she read the intention in them.

"Mmm-hmm."

His face was coming closer, his eyes intensely green. She felt his breath on her face and braced herself.

"Then let's try this."

His mouth went to hers softly. Her lips parted in automatic response. All the things he didn't know how to say to her to comfort her, came across in the kiss. In the way he cupped her chin and held the back of her neck. In the way he didn't hurry, didn't push, but simply held her to him softly, letting her lead. Letting her take what she needed.

And she did.


	20. Outline

**A/N: Hi! I'm back. I'm sorry it took me so long to get my act back together. Having a 2yr. old and a new born is wild. I had a girl btw. She's awesome. Cutest. baby. ever. I know everyone says that about their own kids, but I'm convinced that in this case it's true. She makes the Gerber Baby look like an aging porcupine. Her name is Quinn.**

**This chapter is sorta short, but I assumed that a small update was better than none at all. The next chapter is the one I've been looking forward to since the beginning and I promise to make it big and fat. I hope you enjoy. Thanks to those of you who pm'ed me and urged me on. It means a lot that you're sticking by me. I missed you too.**

**Thanks to Irritable Grizzzly for the betaness.**

* * *

Outline

It only took a matter of hours for Charlie to rule out both James and Arrow as suspects in Eric Yorkie's death. Emmett called Charlie directly with information about their whereabouts. James was in Illinois with strong alibis for all of the potentially-related incidents in Forks. Arrow was living in Italy with his family, as he had been for the previous two years. His last visit to the states had been eight months previous and he'd been attending a college friend's funeral.

That was the easy part. The hard part came when there were no other leads. Suddenly the partially-burnt card that had been found at Ben and Angela's apartment complex became more of a puzzle than a clue. At first Charlie feared that it was some sort of message to threaten Bella, but that didn't make any sense. And when Edward couldn't think of anyone else who posed a threat to him, it seemed as though it was merely the work of someone who wasn't mentally sound. Charlie didn't care for that theory either, since that made the crime more random and widened the sea of suspects.

A break in the case didn't come until the next morning when Sue Clearwater found a body floating in the pond behind her house.

"I was hanging the wash…" Her hand trembled as she took a cup of tea from her daughter Leah, who then moved to sit beside her and rub her arm encouragingly. She patted her daughter's hand and continued, her voice stronger, "I just happened to look toward the pond and…" she cleared her throat, "And there he was." She shuddered and looked helplessly to Charlie. "It was awful."

Charlie had already been on the scene and thought that awful was an understatement. He patted her shoulder before finishing his report. "I'm sorry Sue. We'll get to the bottom of this."

"I know you will Charlie, I'm not worried about that. It's just that – with Harry gone – I can't bear the thought that someone was here, just outside my backdoor, dumping a body in our pond."

Charlie looked around the room. Sue's children were there; a son and a daughter that were her world and her hope now that her husband was gone. Friends and tribe members filled her family room to give their support. This was _his_ _town_, Charlie thought angrily, and these were _his people_. He kept the rage he was feeling in check when he took Sue's hand in his and looked her directly in the eyes. "You're safe here Sue," he told her. "This is your home and I'm going to do everything in my power to keep you and your kids safe. We'll patrol hourly and we'll get you a security system. We'll do whatever it takes."

Mutely, with tear-filled eyes, she nodded.

The corpse was identified as Felix Dawns, the man who owned and ran the small convenience store gas station just outside of town. The same one that Edward and Bella had stopped at before finding Eric Yorkie's body. The station was the last place he'd been seen.

"I just can't believe it."

Bella sat in Charlie's office and shook her head. Edward stood in the doorway, leaning against the door-jam. Charlie had asked them both to come there so he could talk to them about anything else they might remember about the day they found Eric which might hold a clue to whatever was going on. Alice was there too because Charlie believed that she had seen something, possibly even the person responsible, but all she could tell him was that the person looked small and was wearing a dark jacket.

"So let's work out a time-line," Charlie decided. "I want you to go through that day as meticulously as you can." He caught the look on Edward's face.

"What is it?"

Edward shook his head, "I'm just mad I guess. I was probably the last person Felix spoke to. It just seems like such a waste you know? I mean, why did a young kid have to die?"

Charlie and Bella stared at him incredulously.

"What?"

"A young kid?" Charlie whipped out his ever-present notepad. "Felix Dawns was well into his sixties. What did the guy you talked to look like?"

"He was a young guy, maybe twenty, blond hair, kind of greasy." Edward watched as Bella and her father frowned at one another.

"It wasn't Felix that Edward saw, was it?" Alice asked.

"No," Charlie answered, "What else can you remember, Edward? It's only been a few days. Did you talk to him? What did he say."

So much had happened since then. Edward pinched the bridge of his nose as he concentrated.

"You said you needed cash." Bella prompted.

Edward nodded. "Yeah, I needed change of a fifty. He took my bill. He - his hands were shaking - he was sort of trembling all over actually. I thought drugs maybe. He asked me something. Possibly something about the weather." He closed his eyes and tried to focus. "Then he…" His eyes popped open as he remembered. "He introduced himself. He – gah – he told me his name." He dropped his hands and began to pace.

"What was it?" Charlie was leaning forward, eyes intense.

"Allen." Then Edward thought for a moment and shook his head. "No, that's not quite right. Alex? Yeah, I think it was Alex."

"Are you sure?"

Edward let out an exasperated sound that was half-sigh, half-laugh. "No, I'm not, but it was something that sounded like that."

"I'm going to have you work with a sketch artist," Charlie decided. "I want this guy's face posted all over town. If you see him again, or even someone who looks like him, I want you to call me immediately." He turned to Bella, "Did you see him?"

She shook her head. "No, I waited in the car."

It was Alice's turn to speak up. "So what does this mean?"

"It means that the man Edward spoke to killed Felix Dawns, and then used the station to acquire the gas that started all the fires, including the one that killed Eric. And that Felix must have known something." Charlie was impatient to follow up on the new leads. "I hate to be rude…" he began.

Bella smiled, knowing what came next, "but you have work to do," she finished.


	21. Work Of Art part 1

**Hey kids! This is part one of a two-part chapter. I've never done that before, and I wouldn't have now except that it's taking me years to write and I figured I was due for an update, like, yesterday. Also it would have been freaking long as a single chapter.**

**Hope eveyone is good. Thanks for the reviews, alerts, and pms. I appreciate it. Thanks Irritable Grizzzly for being my beta.**

**Side note: Two of the Jake stories contained in this chapter are based on actual things that have happened to me. The tent and wake-board... you'll see. ;)**

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Work of Art

When Edward and Alice walked into Bella's apartment Friday night to pick her up for the bonfire, they were greeted with the overwhelming scent of Mexican food. They found her in her kitchen wearing an apron that covered a baggy sweatshirt and jeans that were worn white at the stress points, pulling a deep casserole dish from the oven.

They stood bewildered in the doorway while she bustled around the kitchen, covering dishes, oblivious to their presence.

"Bella?" Alice finally broke the silence.

Startled, Bella squealed and nearly dropped a full container of sour cream. "Alice! Geez, you scared me."

"Sorry." She came to Bella's side. "What's all this?"

"I'm running behind," Bella answered, jumping a second time when the microwave beeped. She turned and pulled out a glass dish of refried beans and transferred them to a nacho server. "I'm sorry. We're going to be a little late. The enchiladas need about ten more minutes. And, um, the salsa… where did I put the salsa?"

Edward enjoyed her bewildered expression as she stared blankly around the kitchen. "The refrigerator!" she announced suddenly, and dashed toward it.

"Aren't we headed to a bonfire?" Alice asked as she examined the kitchen. "What's with all the food?"

"I cook," Bella answered with her head still in the 'fridge as she passed a collection of hot sauces to the counter. "It's tradition."

She stood suddenly and looked at them seriously. "Listen, this thing is going to be really boring for you guys. It's something we do every year to honor Jacob, but you guys didn't know him, so I'm afraid it's just going to be lame for you. We eat Jake's favorite foods, listen to his favorite songs, and wear his clothes." She pointed to her baggy sweatshirt. "We tell stories… it's just…" She trailed off as she raised her hands and then let them drop. "You're going to think we're being silly or insensitive…"

Edward rounded the counter to take her hands. He tried to ignore his sister as he lifted them to his lips. Alice just smiled at the display of affection.

"Relax," he told her. "Don't worry about us. I think this tradition is great. We're just honored to be invited." He mirrored his sister's gaze as it landed on the array of dishes covering her counters. "Now what do you need help with?"

The legs of two sawhorses were buried in pebbles and sand next to a large piece of driftwood, and a deep and obviously well-used fire pit, and they'd arranged a wide plank of plywood over them as a make-shift table. Everyone participated in helping Bella and her guests carry the food down to the beach. Edward was introduced to everyone in "the pack," as well as some of their younger siblings. It was a little intimidating, but everyone was open and friendly. It didn't take him long to feel comfortable among them.

It was an education to watch Bella with these people. This side of her, one that he'd only been able to glimpse when they'd run into Embry in Port Angeles, was radiant when his perspective wasn't clouded with jealousy. She laughed openly, joked easily, and teased mercilessly. The hugs she exchanged with various members of the group were easy, as were the kisses that were traded with an intimacy that spoke of time and familiarity, but not possessiveness. It became obvious within minutes that these were, indeed, her brothers.

Plates were filled to heaping, while coolers were relieved of their load of sugary soda. A small, round woman with a long black braid came to drop off a layered chocolate cake. The Quileute boys rose to applaud as she laughed and curtsied. Bella went over to give her a hug and murmured something in her ear. The woman smiled and nodded before squeezing her hand and heading back to her car. "That was Sue Clearwater," she explained as she took a seat next to Edward near the fire. "The woman who found Felix."

Edward nodded. Alice appeared on his other side, with her plate no less heaping than the largest tribe member's. "This stuff is amazing Bella! Where did you learn to cook?"

"Growing up, I spent my summers with my mom in Arizona." She shrugged. "Mexican food is big down there, so… I don't know. I guess I just picked it up. This," she pointed her fork toward the chicken enchilada on her plate, "was Jake's favorite. I made it for him every year on his birthday since we were nine."

One of the Quileute boys who'd been listening leaned around her to talk to Edward. "And then this one year, I was, like, eight, so you guys must have been twelve?" He looked to Bella for confirmation and then laughed at her glare.

"Shut up Seth."

"No, no, this is a good one." He grinned as she elbowed him, and then called across the fire pit. "Hey Quil, remember the enchilada incident?" When Quil let out a roaring laugh, the others took interest and smiled as Seth took pleasure in sharing the story with a new audience. "Okay, so Jacob always talked about these amazing enchiladas that she made, and that year he invited my family over for dinner -"

"I hate you," she interrupted.

"Shut up Bella, this is one of my favorites," laughed a pack-member who Edward remembered was named Paul.

"I hate you too," Bella pouted.

This comment was met with a careless shrug.

"Stop interrupting." Seth settled back and draped an arm over Bella's shoulders. "Okay, so we're all sitting at the table, and Billy invites my dad to take the first bite. My dad was a notoriously picky eater, so it was a big deal whenever he got up the nerve to try something new."

Edward watched as Bella smiled in spite of herself.

"We were all waiting for his opinion, you know, so we were all watching his face. He took a bite-" Seth broke off and then burst out laughing. "Do you remember Leah? It was priceless."

Leah gave her brother a smile that was only a little sad. "Yeah Seth, I remember. His face got all red and his eyes got big."

"Yeah. And then…" Seth paused again and snorted with laughter, "he grabbed the water and started gulping it down. It was awesome."

Bella rolled her eyes. "It was an honest mistake. I accidentally used RedHot sauce instead of enchilada sauce." She looked around the circle of laughing faces. "I was TWELVE!"

"My dad talked about that forever." Seth grinned into the fire, oblivious to the tears that had formed in his sister's eyes. "And after that we never could convince him to try the real thing. He totally missed out."

Bella sighed and leaned her head against Seth's shoulder. "Your dad was so great."

He gave her a lopsided grin and squeezed her shoulders. "He really was."

As the sun set, everyone around the fire took turns telling Jacob stories. Most of them had to do with practical jokes he'd pulled. Jacob's dad, Billy, sat in his wheelchair and told everyone about the time Jake washed all of the whites with one of his sister's red scarves and Billy made him wear the pink underwear as a lesson. As the evening passed, Edward began to feel like he knew Jacob.

When Quil's turn came, he turned to Paul. "Sorry man, I have to tell it."

Paul glared and shook his head. "No, c'mon dude."

Everyone was already laughing in anticipation of the story they already knew. "I'm sorry, it's a classic. We have to tell it."

"Then I'm gonna take a walk. Leah?"

Leah smiled and rose to take his hand as they wandered away from the fire.

Seth stared after them. "How long has that been going on?"

"Only forever." Bella reached up to pat his shoulder.

"Huh," was his only response.

Quil turned to face Edward and Alice, obviously enjoying that this year he had a fresh audience. "The young men in our tribe go on this huge hiking and camping trip every couple of years. We try our hand at living off the land and the older boys tell us the stories and legends of our tribe. There were always two or three tents full of boys; we sort of divided them up by age.

"It was Jake's, Embry's, and my first year and we were really excited. Paul and Jared were only a little older than we were. The original plan was that the five of us would share a tent, but when we made camp that first night, Paul decided he was too good for us and weaseled his way into Sam's tent because he wanted to hang with the older guys. That really ticked the rest of us off. The next morning we were in our tent, rolling up our sleeping bags and beefing about how sick we were of Paul and his bad attitude. The sun was bright, and the tent walls were thin."

Quil paused to smile as chuckles broke out.

"Jake was lying on his stomach and he was going on and on about how tired he was of Paul and calling him all sorts of names. The rest of us could see this familiar silhouette walk up and stop right outside of the tent. It was Paul, but he didn't realize we could see him. Jared starts waving his arms at Jake to make him shut up and that's when Jake realizes that Paul's been eavesdropping. He was so ticked. He stood up really slowly and quietly came to stand near the tent so he was facing Paul's shadow. They were nose-to-nose and Paul didn't even know it. Then Jake brought his arm back and bam! He punched him right in the face."

Alice gasped as laughter broke out. "Was Paul all right?"

Quil waved the question away. "He was fine, except for his pride. He couldn't see it coming, so Jake got him good. His nose starts bleeding and he just loses it. He tries to punch Jake back, but Jake can see him coming so he moves aside. Paul tries again and throws all his weight into it and the whole tent comes down on us. Then it was just a free-for-all. Best brawl ever."

They continued around the circle, telling stories about Jake's life. The portable CD player played a steady mix of songs ranging from Matchbox20 to Zebrahead to Disney's The Lion King soundtrack. Paul and Leah returned from their walk and Paul announced that he'd thought of another story to tell.

Bella turned to look at him sharply. "Not the wakeboarding story."

Paul grinned mischievously and nodded. "The wakeboarding story," he confirmed.

Bella groaned shook her head. "Why does this always feel like it turns into a 'Bella's Most Embarrassing Moments' marathon?"

Paul shrugged. "You'll live." He sat down and cracked open a can of soda. "So, we used to go wakeboarding a lot in the summer. Charlie let us tinker on his fishing boat and Jake got it to run fast enough to pull a wakeboarder. But the thing was that only two could ride in the boat or it was too heavy. Bella usually drove the boat because her dad trusted her the most.

"That day Jake and I were trading off as flagger. Jake was in the water, and I was the passenger. Jake's goal that day was to jump high enough to clear both wakes, which was almost impossible at the speed we were going, but he was convinced he could do it. He wound up taking a bad spill, bashed his chin on the edge of the wakeboard, and cut himself pretty bad. I put up the flag and Bella brought the boat around to pick him up.

"We didn't notice how bad he was bleeding until I got him in the boat. I grabbed the nearest towel and was so preoccupied with trying to help Jacob that I sort of forgot what happens when Bella sees blood. Pretty soon I start to feel sort of dizzy and I can't figure out why because I don't have a problem with blood at all. Then Jake said he was feeling dizzy too. Finally we look up to see Bella has passed-out at the helm with her arm hooked around the steering wheel and her knee against the throttle and we're going in circles."

Finally the laughter died down and the group lapsed into silence. It was a comfortable silence, but a heavy one. The song changed to "Crash and Burn" by Savage Garden and Edward looked over to see tears leaking from Bella's eyes. Seth's arm came around her again, this time in comfort. "Do you want me to change it?" he asked her.

"No." She reached up to pat his hand. "No, it's time I remembered."

The silence hung a few minutes longer, and then Bella spoke. "I was painting…" She stared into the fire as though she'd forgotten they were all there. "I was painting and like always I lost track of time. He was so exasperated with me." She smiled. "He was trying to be helpful, but he just wanted me out the door. I was supposed to be ready. We were supposed to be on time."

The silence hung again. Edward sensed from their expressions that this was a story Bella hadn't shared before.

"It was the perfect day for a wedding and the widows were down and I was breathing in the fresh spring air and I felt like nothing could go wrong. This song came on and we were singing along to it." Her voice faltered and Edward felt a pressure in his chest. His heart was breaking for her. "I'd forgotten to eat, so he was opening up a package of PopTarts, but he didn't want crumbs spilling all over his precious car and didn't trust me to be neat, so he was opening the package while I held the wheel. Suddenly the truck was coming so fast and heading right for us. I think I screamed and then -"she broke off and shrugged. "Then there was only black. For so long there was only black."

The tears continued to fall as she dropped her head in her hands. "I can't…I can't…" she murmured. Seth let his arm fall as Edward reached for her. He pulled her close, not caring who was watching. The others sat in silence.

Eventually she lifted her head and wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry." She looked up and attempted a faulty smile. "I just wanted you all to know what happened. I want to be able to talk about it, but I just…" She shrugged and her lower lip trembled.

"You don't have to, Bella." Embry looked at her soberly from across the fire as the light flickered on his face, accenting his own tears. "We all remember what it was like for you."

She nodded gratefully and then turned to Billy. "It's been a long night for you. May I help you home?"

"Yes, thank you. I think it's time for this old man to call it a night." He smiled warmly at her.

"I'll be right back." Bella smiled at Edward and rose to her feet.

He understood her need for a moment alone with Jake's father and didn't offer to help. It looked as though she was accustomed to maneuvering Billy's chair, even through pebbles and sand. He watched her retreating back as she faded and blended into the moonlight, and wondered how it was possible to become friends with someone he'd never had the chance to meet.


	22. Work of Art part 2

**A/N: First of all, thank you for all of the reviews. I know I don't respond, but it's not because I don't appreciate them. It's just that my life is hectic. I barely have time to write. Actually, I _don't_ have time to write, but I do it anyway. I check my inbox a bajillion times a day for reviews. So don't think I don't care about them. I do. I live on them. I love them. So THANK YOU!**

**Thanks to Irritable Grizzzly for being an awesome beta.**

**I'm getting ready to start wrapping this up. I can't wait! I'm so excited to show you how it ends.**

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**Work of Art II**

**~J~**

It's going to be perfect and make up for all our past mistakes. If that stupid Cullen girl hadn't ruined our plans, if that stupid old man hadn't tried to get in our way, but most of all, if those stupid kids hadn't killed our dad, it wouldn't have had to come to this.

I'm holding the light steady while my brother works. I smile when I hear the fluid begin to drip, drip, drip onto the gravel. I look back to see their pathetic fire flickering in the distance. They don't know fire the way we do. But they will.

That is, unless they're already dead.

**~B~**

"I can take it from here Bella." Billy reached for the wheels of his chair as soon as she got him to the solid ramp that led up to his house. "You can get back to your friends."

"I don't mind. Actually, I have something for you if you have a minute."

"Sure, sure." Bella smiled as she heard Jake's voice echo in her head with those exact words. "I always have a minute for you."

"All right I just have to run back to my car. I'll be right back."

She hurried out and across the narrow road that separated Billy's property from the small lot where Edward's Volvo was parked. Had she been paying more attention, she would have seen the small point of a flashlight go off near the car, but instead she was looking down the beach to where the bonfire was flickering in the distance. She could make out a few silhouettes, and she thought she could hear the sound of laughter drifting across the sand over the sound of the ocean. When she got closer to the car, she heard movement in the bushes, but assumed it was wildlife of some small sort, and ignored it.

The painting was wrapped in a cloth and unframed. She didn't want it to be a big deal. She just wanted Billy to have it.

He looked intrigued when she carried it in, but when he took it from her, he gave her a huge grin as he recognized the shape through the cloth. "It's a canvas." He smiled up at her, "You painted me something?"

She gripped her hands together and didn't respond as he carefully pulled away the cloth. When he flipped it over, he got perfectly still and silent. His head was bent over it so Bella couldn't see his face. She wasn't sure if she wanted to.

"I wanted to paint him sooner," she said when she couldn't bear the silence any longer. "I just couldn't." He lifted a hand to his mouth, but still didn't speak. She had to see his face, so she dropped down to her knees beside his chair.

Tears were running silently down his withered cheeks, but through his fingers she could see that he was smiling. "Jake." He let his hand down to stroke the painted face. "Oh Bella, you painted him perfectly." Then he turned to her and in a rare show of affection, draped his arm around her in a half-hug. "I always knew you had talent," he said, "but this is your masterpiece."

Bella nodded as they pulled away, knowing she'd never again paint anything this important. "For a long time I didn't think I would be able to see him in my head clear enough to paint him. It upset and frightened me…but when I finally let myself try, I guess my hands and mind remembered."

"You loved him." Billy wasn't looking at the painting now, but instead at Bella's face.

She nodded, feeling her own eyes tear up.

"And he loved you." Billy reached out to wipe the tears from her cheeks. "If he'd lived, maybe you would have made each other happy."

She nodded again and then added with a broken laugh, "or miserable."

Billy grinned, "Yes, it might have gone that way. We'll never know about that, but what I know to be true is that Jake would not have wanted your life to stop just because his ended. He would be proud of what you're doing with it, and would want you to be happy."

"Thank you Billy. I am happy."

"Good. I noticed the way Edward was looking at you tonight. I think he'd like to make you happier."

"Billy!"

He laughed outright. "Okay, okay, it's none of my business. I'll leave you alone." He turned his chair toward the hallway to his bedroom and looked back one more time. "Thank you for the painting; for giving me Jake's smile."

Bella grinned. "You gave it to him first."

"Oh, and one more thing, now that you're out of Charlie's house, I want you to take Jake's bike."

"Oh no, Billy, I couldn't."

"Why not? That thing is yours if it's anybody's. I know Charlie wouldn't let you have it before because he thought it was too fast and powerful, but I've seen the way you handle yours and I know Jake would have wanted you to have it. Take it tonight. It's in the shed."

"If you're sure…"

"I'm sure. Goodnight, Bella."

When she got back, she saw the party was picking up. Seth revealed his horde of s'more ingredients and the volume of the stereo had inched up considerably.

Edward stood at the edge of the fire, as though he'd been waiting for her. She noticed Alice looked perfectly comfortable as she let Seth prepare her a s'more with his secret ingredient of a banana slice.

She came close enough for Edward to see what remained of her tears reflected in the fire.

"Are you all right?"

She smiled, remembering what Billy said about happiness. "I'm great. I gave Billy the picture and I think he really liked it."

"I'm sure he did." Edward continued to study her face. "Let's take a walk."

"Okay." She let him take her hand and lead them away from the fire. They walked for a few moments in comfortable silence. "Are you having a good time?" she finally asked.

"Yeah," he squeezed her hand in assurance. "Your friends are great. It's rare to have friends like that, who feel like family."

"They are my family," Bella said simply. "There isn't anything they wouldn't do for me, and vice-versa."

"Do you mind if I ask you something?"

"No, of course not."

"How did this tradition start?"

Bella considered for a moment, trying to remember. "Well, I wasn't here for the first one. I still wasn't well." She looked out over the water, the moonlight played on each wave as it broke and rolled to shore. The October wind was chilly, but inside she felt warm and content. "I guess it began with Billy. It must have been a few months after the accident. The tribe was having some sort of gathering - or celebration? - I can't remember. Anyway, he overheard some of the boys talking about Jake. And the things they were saying made him sound so noble, like he was some sort of saint or something. And instead of making Billy feel good that they held his memory in such high regard, it made him sad."

"Really?"

"Yeah. He wanted us to remember everything about Jake accurately, even his flaws. He said it was natural to want to think well of the dead, but sometimes it makes you forget that they were a human being and you lose part of their character. So he told the boys to come down to the beach the next night and they had a bonfire. Billy told them all kinds of Jake stories. Funny ones, happy ones, sad ones… and pretty soon everyone joined in and it made them all feel closer to him. And we've done it every year since."

"It's a great tradition." Edward said when she'd finished. "It made me feel like I knew him a little."

Bella turned to him, "Really?"

"Yeah, I mean, it seems like he was a great guy."

"He was." Bella stopped and breathed in the night air as she turned to Edward. "He wouldn't have liked you much though," she said bluntly.

Edward frowned, confused by the playfulness of her tone. Then he smiled when he saw her expression. "Is that right?"

"Yep," Bella laughed. "I'm pretty sure he would have hated your guts."

"And why is that?"

"Because he was protective," she told him matter-of-factly as her grin faded into a soft smile, "and because you like me."

"I do?"

She stepped forward. "Mmm-hmm, I think you do."

He considered her for a moment, and then lifted his hand to push her wind-blown hair from her cheek. "You know Bella, I think you might be right."

She felt an odd and pleasant chill, the same one she always got when he used her name. It gave her courage, an odd sort of power, from the simple knowledge of his feelings toward her. "Well Edward," she took on last step until she was pressed against him. "What are you going to do about it?" She was looking up at him, and it took very little effort, and even less thought, to put his lips to hers.

The kiss wasn't demanding or desperate, but soft and contented. Bella felt herself melt into it and into him, letting her arms come around his neck as his found their way around her waist. They stayed that way for a long moment that could have been a lifetime. The electricity Bella imagined whenever they made contact swirled around them, but instead of feeling urgent, it made her feel sure. This was certain. This was right. And something about the way he held her, the way his lips moved gently against hers, made her think that he felt it too.

They pulled apart and studied each other for one long moment. There was an intensity about him as he looked at her. His eyes bore into hers, filled with desire, but also with trepidation. "Be sure," they seemed to say. His insecurity surprised her. She smiled and leaned in for one more quiet kiss. It was her way of saying, "I am."

When they got back to the bonfire, it was breaking up. Many of the guys shook Edward's hand and told him and Alice not to be strangers. Bella was pleased with how well everyone had gotten along.

They trekked back up to the Volvo and that's when Bella remembered the bike.

"Um, I guess I don't need a ride home," she told them.

"What? Why not?" Alice asked.

"Billy is, uh, well he's giving me Jacob's motorcycle and he said I could take it home tonight."

"You already have a motorcycle," Alice pointed out.

"Yeah, well," Bella lifted her shoulders and let them fall, "this one is…better."

"You mean faster?"

"She means more dangerous." Edward frowned. "It's dark out, Bella; not really the best time to test-drive a bike."

"It's not a test-drive, I've ridden it dozens of times."

"I can bring you back here tomorrow with your truck and help you pick it up."

"I have to work tomorrow." She appreciated his protectiveness, but held on. "It's no big deal. Nothing to worry about," she said, smiling at him.

"I'm sure she knows what she's doing Edward," Alice stated, taking Bella's side. "We can follow her in the car."

"No, _you_ can follow her," Edward decided. "I'll ride along. It can seat two, right?"

"Sure, I guess. It's not necessary though, and it's going to be cold."

He rolled his eyes. "If you can handle it, I'm sure I can."

"Fine. I'll be right back."

She ran to Billy's shed and turned on the light with the hanging chain. The bike was against the back wall, the keys hanging in their usual place above it, and she swallowed a lump in her throat. She knew it had been used since Jake's death. Many of the Quileute boys had borrowed it, but at that moment, standing in his shed with the familiar scents surrounding her, she could easily imagine Jake had just put it there himself.

She wheeled it out and pushed it back toward the lot after hooking two helmets over the handlebars. When she approached, Edward reached for one right away and strapped it on, and then held onto the bike so Bella could do the same. She was dismayed and shocked to see him swing his leg over and start it on the first try. He didn't move from the driving position.

"What do you think you're doing?" she yelled over the sound of the motor.

"Oh, didn't I mention it?" he called back with a grin and patted the seat behind him. "I'm driving."


	23. Scraping

**A/N: Thanks again for the reviews, alerts, and PMs. Thanks always to Irritable Grizzzly. And thank you to those of you who have been rec'ing and pimping this fic around.**

**This is one of those chapters where the characters take over and ruin my mental outline. It's okay, I sort of love when that happens. I can't wait to get your thoughts at the end.**

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**Scraping**

The wind was crisp and the sky was unusually clear. Bella's grip around Edward's waist loosened as she relaxed with the movement of the motorcycle. She wasn't used to letting someone else have control, but it had become apparent as they whipped out of the lot that Edward knew what he was doing. She breathed in the night air and leaned her head forward so that her chin rested on his shoulder. She couldn't remember a time when she'd been happier, or felt more alive.

As they made it to the end of the straightaway leaving La Push, and approached the switch-backs that would take them along the cliff's edge toward the turn-off for Forks, Bella looked back to make sure Alice was following. She knew that the back roads could be confusing, especially at night.

The Volvo was there, keeping its distance, but staying in sight.

Edward took the first turn steadily to test the bike's capabilities. It rounded the bend easily and felt solid and powerful beneath him.

"This thing's in good shape," he called to Bella over the sound of the motor.

"Yeah, Jake built it himself."

The road opened up as they approached the next turn. The trees that had been obscuring the view thinned until the rocks along the ocean's edge were high and bare. The cliff rose up next to them, creating a wall, so there was no place to look but at the ocean. The moon was full and high in the sky, its light reflected in one long stream across the water to the edge of the horizon. It was a seascape that was all blues, grays and whites.

"Some view," Edward commented.

Bella agreed. She'd seen it dozens of times and it was always beautiful, but never the same.

"How's Alice doing back there?" Edward didn't take his eyes from the road as it weaved steadily downhill, back and forth with the shape of the cliffs.

"She's right behind us, I just looked." Bella replied, but then she heard frantic horn-honking and saw Alice flashing her lights.

"Something's going on. Pull over," Bella said, bewildered.

Edward slowed the bike and in no time the car was beside them. Alice had the window down. Her hands were gripping the steering wheel tightly, her panic-stricken eyes were wide.

"What's wrong?" Edward called sharply.

"I don't have any brakes," Alice called back, keeping her voice calm in contrast to her expression.

"What? What do you mean?"

"I don't have any brakes!" Alice repeated, this time a little frantically. They rounded the next wide curve side-by-side, and the pace increased. "What do I do?"

Bella felt her pulse racing and tried to think clearly. She knew these roads well. The hill would continue for almost another mile along the cliffs. Toward the bottom of the hill the turns would be sharper. The ocean would always be on one side, a sheer rock wall on the other. The tide was low, which meant that a trip into the ocean would be deadly, the shallow rocks barely concealed below the water's surface.

Inevitably one of two things would happen: either Alice would lose control and end up driving off the cliff on a fatal trip into the ocean, or she would hit the rock wall first and possibly stay on the road, but the road was narrow and the odds of the car staying away from the edge of the cliff was slim. Bella's mind raced as their speed increased. She knew Edward and Alice were calling back to one another, but she couldn't focus on what they were saying. She could think of only one way…

"You're both going to have to trust me!" She called suddenly, her mind made up.

She felt the tension in Edward's torso, but he nodded.

"Okay!" Alice gritted her teeth as they took the next bend, but still kept her cool.

"There's a place up ahead where it will be safe to go over."

"Over the cliff?" Edward's voice was harsh.

"It's the only way," Bella yelled back. "The water's too shallow everywhere else. There are sharp turns up ahead. How long do you think she'll have control of the car?"

Alice was too busy now to hear them. Even Edward was struggling to stay beside her as their speed inched up past fifty miles an hour. "I trust you Bella," Alice yelled to her, and then to Edward she ordered, "Just do what she says!"

"I'll wave you off," Bella said, "Do you understand? I'll be standing where you need to drive off the cliff. The water is deep there. You're going to be okay, Alice."

Alice gripped the wheel tighter and nodded through her concentration.

She tightened her grip around Edward and yelled, "Go! It's just up ahead."

Edward increased their pace to outrun the speeding car. They whipped around three more curves before Bella yelled at him to stop. She was off the bike in an instant and running toward the edge of the cliff. "Put the headlight on me!" She screamed over the sound of engines and the Volvo's squealing tires.

Edward obeyed without thinking; there wasn't time. The car was barreling toward where Bella stood, waving her arms. She jumped back just in time as the tires spun through the gravel and crashed through the small barrier. For an instant that lasted a lifetime, it hung in the sky, its tires spinning in the air, before it plunged into the ocean below.

Edward's gaze peeled away from the place where the car had disappeared into the blackness and he tried to focus on Bella. She was yelling something at him. He concentrated on her voice.

"Call for help!" she said. Then before he could do anything to stop her, she leapt off the cliff.

The wind rushed through her hair for one long moment before she hit the water. It was black and icy, but she barely felt it as adrenaline coursed through her veins. She had only one focus: Alice.

Water pushed at her, and churned around her in angry bubbles and disorienting waves. She could see the car farther out, half-floating in the sea. She swam toward it, gasping every time another wave broke over her head, nearly forcing her back. She heard herself whispering Alice's name over and over. It felt like an eternity before she reached the Volvo.

The car was turned on its side. The passenger-side doors faced the sky but they were bent in where the low barrier had made impact. She could see Alice inside. There was still an air pocket where she was vainly trying to force the passenger door open. The car was disappearing lower and lower into the water before Bella's eyes.

Alice saw Bella swimming toward her and mouthed, "The door is stuck!"

Bella mouthed back, "Other side!" and taking a deep breath, plunged below the surface to get to the driver's side door.

It was silent and black. Bella felt her way around the car as she forced her body down. She searched blindly for the door handle and felt her heart flutter when her fingers found their way around it. She pulled at it as hard as the cold water would allow. Her lungs screamed for air, but she ignored her survival instincts, focusing only on the task at hand. The handle snapped out of her hand the first time, and she panicked when she didn't find it again right away. Her heart raced, her brain demanding breath, but still she stayed focused. She wasn't coming up without Alice.

She found the handle again and this time she braced her feet against the car as she yanked. The door swung free and she felt the brush of Alice's body as she swam by. Relief brought with it the sensation of acute pain in her chest, and she turned to swim back to the surface. She pushed off the car and when she was yanked back, she gasped on instinct. Her sweatshirt was caught on the door somehow, but her breath was already gone and icy water was filling her lungs. She didn't have the strength to struggle, or time for any last thoughts before her icy, black reality became oblivion.

"Come _on_ Bella," the voice forced itself into her consciousness, demanding, hard, and desperate. She felt nothing, could do nothing, but listen to the voice.

"Come _on._" She didn't know what the voice wanted her to do. She wished they would lift the fiery stones from her chest. They were going to kill her. She was going to burn to death or she would die from the pressure. Then there a gentle touch against her mouth, and the stones in her chest quit burning for a moment.

"Is the water out?" Another voice joined in.

"She coughed it up," the desperate voice replied, "but she's not breathing on her own." There was pressure against her mouth again, and again the burning lessened. "Bella? Bella come on, breathe. You _have_ to _breathe_."

"Do you want me to take over? They'll be here any minute."

"No," the voice snapped. "No, I just – I need her to breathe. Please, Bella."

To ease the pain in the voice she tried to understand what she was supposed to do, but the stones were in her way, so she couldn't help. The darkness came back, inviting, and she went into it willingly.

When she opened her eyes, she realized she didn't know where she was. Nothing looked familiar, and she made a small sound of distress. A hand was on hers in a moment, and Charlie's anxious face filled her vision.

"Bella? Bella can you hear me?"

She cleared her throat to answer and cringed as a thousand tiny needles sliced at her airway.

"No, no, don't try to talk." Charlie leaned over her bed and in a rare show of affection, pushed her hair away from her forehead. "The doc said your throat will be sore for a while."

"What happened?" Even her whisper was hoarse.

"Don't you remember?"

She thought about it. At first it was hard to pinpoint the last thing she knew for sure. Then she recalled the image of Alice fighting with the door and panicked. "Alice!"

"Shhhh," Charlie soothed, "she's okay. I finally convinced her and Edward to go downstairs and get something to eat. They've been here around the clock. They'll probably be upset that they weren't around when you regained consciousness."

"How long?"

"You've been out for a little over twenty-four hours." He gripped her hand. "When they get back I'll go get the doc and tell him you're awake. You gave me quite a scare you know."

"Sorry." She gave him a small smile.

"You don't have to be." He squeezed her hand. "Bella, you saved Alice's life."

"And I'll never be able to repay you." Alice materialized at the other side of the bed. She had tears in her eyes. "I'm so glad you're awake."

It all happened so fast that Bella hadn't had a chance to think or feel. It seemed more like a dream than reality. Something about seeing Alice again, alive and well, put it into perspective and made it real. It may have been hours for the others, but for her, it was moments and reaction began to set in. "Oh Alice," she whispered, and her hand began to tremble as she reached out, "I thought…"

"Hush Bella, it's okay. Just rest. There'll be time to talk later." She squeezed Bella's hand and then looked toward the foot of the bed. Bella followed her gaze to find that Edward. He was keeping his distance, his expression unreadable.

Alice turned back to Bella, "How do you feel? Just thumbs up or down."

Bella lifted her hand and held her thumb out to the side. Alice laughed. "I guess that's good enough."

"Okay, I'm going to go find the doc and I'll be right back." Charlie patted her hand one more time before leaving.

"And I promised Angela I'd call her as soon as you woke up. Do you need anything?" Alice stepped back from the bed and dug her phone out of her pocket. When Bella shook her head she said, "All right then, I'll just be out in the hall." She slipped out and shut the door behind her, leaving Edward and Bella alone.

Bella wasn't sure where to look. Edward hadn't moved since he'd entered the room except to occasionally pinch the bridge of his nose. She wanted to ask him if he had a headache. He looked pale and tired, with an extra day's worth of stubble to make the shadows on his face appear deeper. He didn't speak for a few long seconds and then he came around the bed next to her, all the while his face a mask that she couldn't see behind.

She offered him a small smile, feeling awkward. He watched her for a moment and then he lifted a hand to brush her hair back as Charlie had done; only his touch left a trail of fire behind.

The silence dragged on, his eyes intensely burning into her. Slowly the mask was fading and little-by-little his face revealed what he was feeling.

"Edward I'm-" Bella whispered. She wanted to say something – anything - that would remove the pain from his eyes. She wasn't sure what had caused it, but she couldn't bear to see it.

He cut her off. "Don't." It was a rough command, spoken quietly. "Don't, just…" his hand moved restlessly from her forehead and cupped the back of her neck, "I just need a minute." And then, before she could respond, he was kissing her.

It took all of his self-control to keep the kiss gentle. There was a need in him; a powerful, all-encompassing need to hold onto her. Something inside of him had snapped when he'd reached through the dark and found her lifeless form twisting in the water. He hadn't known until that moment exactly what she meant to him. He hadn't been able to breathe properly since, knowing that he could lose her.

She felt the tenderness in the kiss, and the barely-veiled desperation. Confused, she gave back what she could, hoping that he would be able to tell her what was going on.

The kiss was brief, but when he pulled away, he simply rested his forehead against hers. "Bella…" He took a moment to get a hold of himself and then he leaned back to look into her face. She stared back at him, wide-eyed. He picked up her hand and toyed with her fingers. "I thought you were dead," he said simply without looking at her. "When I pulled you out of the water I thought you were gone. I – I've never been that scared before in my life. I just – I need you to know that you're important. You mean so much to me; more than I realized."

Bella watched his eyes as he spoke and wished the sand in her throat would go away so that she could speak. "You mean a lot to me too," she whispered. "I'm sorry you were scared, but I'm fine. Really."

He was still looking at her fingers as he shook his head. "You jumped off of a cliff, Bella." Finally he met her gaze. "I stood there and watched you jump off those rocks and I couldn't do anything to stop you. What were you thinking, doing something like that?"

"I wasn't thinking," she replied. "I just reacted. I needed to get Alice out of the car and I was already moving before it even registered. I'm sorry I worried you. I've watched the pack go off the rocks there a million times, so I knew it was safe. It just seemed like the only way. I thought I could handle it."

"You don't have to handle everything alone Bella." His voice had a hint of accusation in it. "I couldn't help you. You were under the water somewhere and I couldn't find you." He pushed away from the bed to pace the room, frustrated that he couldn't find the right way to say what he wanted her to know, and frustrated that he wasn't even sure what that was.

"I dropped my phone next to the bike and I went in after you. I saw you go down, but I was still too far back to help and I kept waiting and waiting for you to break the surface. Then Alice pops up and she's smiling, and she turns around like she's expecting you to be right there, and you aren't…because you're down there somewhere just – just drowning… and I can't _do_ anything about it."

"Edward, I'm fine now," she said it softly, wanting to ease the misplaced guilt he was feeling and to erase the pain from his face.

"I couldn't find you!" he exploded. "Do you know what that felt like? I stayed down for as long as I could, until my – my lungs were on _fire_ and knowing all the while that you'd been under there even longer, and I couldn't find you. Then finally, _finally_ you're in my arms and Alice is helping to pull you out, but it's been how long? Five minutes? Ten? And your lips are blue and you aren't responding and I'm thinking this is it. Now I've lost her because I couldn't stop her from jumping."

"If something happened to me, it wouldn't have been your fault Edward. I jumped. It wasn't up to you to stop me. You _saved_ me. You found me and you saved my life. I don't – I don't know why you're so upset."

He paced back and forth next to her bed. After her speech, he dropped into the chair next to her and put his head in his hands. A few moments passed before he lifted his head. "I guess I'm upset because I thought the woman I love was dead."

"W-what did you just say?"

"I said I thought you were dead." Edward watched her face carefully, noting that most of the blood had drained from it.

"That's not all you said." She was afraid she'd heard him wrong.

"I said that you're the woman I love." He felt the truth of the words the moment they left his mouth. He didn't move from the chair and their eyes stayed locked. "I love you."


End file.
